


Saturn Days

by MollyWeisser11



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comfort Food, Eating, F/M, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Food, Food Issues, Food Kink, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Severus Snape Lives, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, mollyweisser11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-03-01 10:09:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MollyWeisser11/pseuds/MollyWeisser11
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Severus Snape lives a quiet life as a biochemist in San Diego. His body is slowly deteriorating -there's only so far he could undo the organ damage created by Nagini's venom. Not to mention the side-effects of his high-potency, experimental antivenom potions. But just as his physical and psychological suffering is becoming too much to bear, a comet enters his atmosphere, as if to brighten his final long orbit around the sun. Or, rather... not a comet, but a moon. Set ten years after the events of book seven. Hurt/comfort,  angst, weight appreciation, and food kink/feederism related elements. WEIGHT GAIN - FAT KINK - FAT ADMIRATION - FAT APPRECIATION - DON'T LIKE DON'T READ. Het.





	1. an unexpected invitation

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to announce my Facebook page; please check it out: Molly Weisser's BBW and BHM Romances -#FatFiction. You can probably just facebook-search for "fatfiction" to find it. Please do like it so that I can help get more visibility and promote my writing and stuff? please? thanks

The opulent office of Georgio Casablanca, M.D. looked like any other self-respecting doctor's office in Beverly Hills. The office was built into a three-floor Victorian mansion, which monstrosity had survived no less than a dozen major earthquakes sourced from the San Andreas fault. The interior boasted antique chairs reupholstered with velvet brocade, stern portraits of early-nineteen-hundreds oil barons and cattle ranchers, and a large humming air conditioner that successfully kept the dark wood-paneled first floor at a state of relative coolness. 

Seated in one of the deep, wide armchairs of the waiting room, the man formerly known as Severus Snape dabbed his brow with a handkerchief. He'd never get used to the heat of California summers. By all the gods in the heavens, it was October... why was it still an acceptable temperature to float lazily about in his outdoor pool? 

Just thinking about the long drive back to San Diego made Severus sink even deeper into the chair - both out of reluctance to *move* as well as his momentary imaginative feeling of his body sinking into the cool chlorinated water. 

If only Muggle biopharmacology could get sufficiently advanced, he wouldn't need to trek up to L.A. for the healthcare. He'd be fine seeing the perfectly intelligent Muggle primary physician at the local university-affiliated clinic, in fact. 

But unfortunately, Severus was alive solely because of magical means - and that meant he needed supervision from a proper healer. 

To complicate the matter further: Severus didn't want to be remembered for his political involvement in two wars that very nearly led to the exposure of magical kind. Among wizards and witches internationally, his face was well-known as that of the man who assassinated Dumbledore, and the good news of his postmortem acquittal traveled a lot slower. 

This made finding appropriate care nearly impossible until he found Casablanca - the healer who specialized in the treatment of other public characters who didn't want to be recognized, mostly movie stars and other Hollywood people. He'd had a stroke of luck when he ran across Casablanca's name in an elite healer's directory. By chance, he recollected that Narcissa Malfoy had once mentioned the man in relation to a very humiliating dermatological condition that she wanted to keep quiet. Casablanca had issued the critical referral, apparently, that led her down a very profitable garden path of other cosmetic improvements upon her person. 

Profitable, too, for the healers involved, of course. 

Heretofore, Dr. Casablanca had lived up to his reputation in terms of discretion, of that Severus was sure. A few dozen contracts - legal and magical alike - assured Severus that his identity was safe with the other man. 

"Mr. Snopes." 

The door of the office opened, and the healer walked into the waiting room, a broad smile on his face. Part of his schtick was that he had no gossipy staff, which the ever-paranoid Snape approved of, but it also increased the difficulty of getting an appointment. And also increased the size of the healer's bills. 

But Snape could afford it, thank Circe. Especially since the men went into business together - Severus brewing boutique potions that were displayed proudly on Casablanca's private prescription shelf.

"Dr. Casablanca," greeted Severus with a curt nod. 

"Let me help you," offered the doctor, proffering an arm to the former Death Eater. 

Severus grunted, but didn't object - he no longer got profoundly humiliated at the difficulties he had with his body, at least not with Dr. Casablanca. So he accepted the supportive arm and heaved himself out of the chair. Dr. Casablanca smiled sympathetically, picked up Severus' cane from where it'd fallen on the floor, and offered it to his patient. 

"Thank you," Severus stated, to cover the little involuntary gasp he made as he stood straight. 

"A lot of pain, today?" asked the doctor warmly.

Severus nodded, closing his eyes as he fortified himself for the walk into the exam room. 

"On a scale of one to ten, ten being most?" prompted the doctor. 

Severus scowled. "A fuckton," he grumbled. 

"And you're still averse to morphine?" the doctor asked neutrally, and Severus nodded in another brusque, wordless response. "Well we still have some other options," Dr. Casablanca said good-naturedly. "But get yourself settled, first, my friend. Would you like some tea?" 

"Desperately," Severus growled, moving his stiff limbs in careful motions. Walking was difficult after such a long drive, even though he'd taken breaks to get out and walk around. 

Hm, seemed like the antiparalytic components of his potions needed some adjustment. 

"You stubborn son-of-a," Dr. Casablanca said with admiration of Severus' challenging walk, "Let me fetch you a cuppa." 

So saying, the soft-stepping doctor disappeared behind another door, leaving Severus to ease himself across the room with the pace and attitude of a catankerous old slug. 

................ 

The other thing that made Severus so loathe to find another healer was this fact: among the number of wizarding healers who put a premium on discretion, there were even fewer who could bear to be polite about Severus' health conditions. 

Specifically, his weight. The man who had left England at an underweight hundred and fifty pounds had become, ten years later, four hundred pounds and change. 

Severus knew he'd blown up like a balloon. There wasn't any question of that - every day was a struggle with basic activities like getting his shoes on, keeping his blood sugar regular, and maintaining enough muscle-mass and core strength to keep his ever-expanding body from the impending doom of immobility. But he'd done enough tinkering with his anti-venom potions to prove that the weight-gain side-effects were an integral component of what made his potions *work* in the first place. 

It had taken far too long to find a healer who understood, in a truly meaningful sense, the dichotomy Severus faced. He would either be fat, or he would be dead. This was due to one of the many ways Nagini's venom had ruined his system in '98. 

At this point, they'd successfully replaced his liver and kidneys, but his pancreas relied on a heavy daily dose of enzymes. Other elements of his GI system also functioned poorly, and his blood circulation was miserable. He was, despite the sheer quantity of food he ate on a day-to-day basis, constantly struggling with undernourishment, because only about half of his intestines absorbed nutrients at all. He had twice-yearly vitamin infusions, but they only lasted so long. Neurologically he was a wreck, with spasms and sciatica and neuropathy that impacted his day-to-day functioning. 

And his thyroid? Hah! It was a joke. Gone were the days he could eat heavy pub food with wild abandon and drink himself to sleep - now Severus gained weight when he ate a single avocado, so it seemed. And forget about lager - he hadn't had a drink since his liver transplant in 2000. 

Most of his body's current complexities came from the damage that came from the initial envenomation from Nagini in 1998. There was only so much you could do to make a corpse dance, after all. But there was some impact that came from his life-sustaining potions, of course - not the least of which was a heavy dose of antidepressants. 

But Dr. Casablanca was a blessing: he understood how delicate the balance of living was for Severus, unlike all the other idiots who had messed with various prescriptions of Muggle and wizarding varieties. Dr. Casablanca gave Severus the prescriptions for the Muggle substances that kept him out of utter misery, and only bothered to try and fix things when they were really broken. He didn't smile and insist on taking more of this or that - he took his role of being a curator of Severus' health condition seriously, without getting personally invested in Severus' meeting arbitrary metrics. 

"Your being alive is a miracle," was what Casablanca had said after reviewing Severus' extensive notes, that first meeting. That's where they had started, and that's where they stuck - Severus' survival was a miracle, and Casablanca was there to serve as a steward and witness to the magic of Severus' ongoing stubborn will to live. 

Severus hated his life - but he wanted to live it, simply because he knew every minute he stuck around on his earth was a minute he was taking back from every person who had kicked him when he was down - and that was a long list indeed. 

He just wasn't expecting to ever see anyone from his old life again. Much less today, in this sacred inner sanctum of the doctor's office. 

................ 

As he entered the exam room, focused on putting one foot in front of the other, Severus suddenly felt something brush against his wide buttocks. He was startled - for years, he hadn't felt anything there more interesting than the exquisite calfskin leather of his BMW. 

Slowly, with the speed of a tortise with an oversized shell, he turned around to see what had made contact with him. All he saw, heading down the hall from him, was a chubby set of hips, a long braid of ethereal silver hair, and... 

...a pair of dirigible plum earrings. 

"Luna Lovegood?" he asked, mostly to himself. 

But perhaps the dark wood panels of the hallway carried his voice too easily - for the figure turned around and met his eyes, confirming his suspicion. 

Her dress was a little snug on her, particularly at the waistline, but not egregiously so. Her face had ripened into a very pretty plumpness, with a hint of a double-chin suggested but not quite complete. She was wearing spectacles, which had taken up permanent residence on her sweet little nose, and her cheeks held a very suggestive color as she registered her former potions master. 

"Professor," she murmured, and without thinking, she gave him a little curtsey. This proceeded to cause one of the books in her arms to slip, and as she reached to get it, she lost hold of all the rest. They tumbled upon the floor with a clatter, and immediately Dr. Casablanca took the moment to arrive with Severus' tea. 

"Oh, erm, Miss Lovegood, I thought you'd left," said the healer sternly. 

"My apologies, I forgot my field journal so I had to return," the witch responded, but her eyes seemed incapable of leaving Severus' face. Her books remained splayed across the floor. 

The good doctor bent to retrieve them, his attitude very disapproving. 

"I thought I made it clear that you were to be gone during my office hours," the healer said, gathering up the materials and irreverently shoving them back into her arms. 

"I'm sorry," Luna said softly, in her typical absent-minded way. She accepted the books, but her eyes still had only room for Severus. 

"What the devil are you staring at?" Snape asked, but there was a heat in his voice that betrayed his embarrassment. "Go on, then." 

He gestured down the hallway, where he could see the exit door. 

"I'm so glad to see you made it out of that mess, alive," Luna said, not even pretending to turn her attention away. "I was so sad, when Harry told me you were dead." 

"Miss Lovegood!" exclaimed Dr. Casablanca, his face growing more steely. "Please, leave my patient alone." 

"It's all right," Severus said, trying to snarl but it diffused before it left his mouth. "She should gape all she likes. It isn't her fault I've become a nightmare image of my former self. I only would have hoped," he added, a trifle more bitter, "that she'd have had the decency to pretend not to recognize me." 

"Verbose as ever," Luna said, sounding a little bit... fond? 

That was clearly impossible, of course, so Severus assumed he must be hearing things. 

"I'm so very sorry, sir," the doctor began to say, starting a course of damage control, but Severus raised a hand to shush him. 

"No matter," said Severus gloomily, "let her go on her way and tell all her little friends about me. The damage is already done." 

"You mean, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and them?" asked Luna curiously. "I haven't spoken to anyone from Hogwarts in ages, Professor." 

"Oh, really, now," Severus said, but he was resignedly moving into the exam room. "I'm sure this juicy tidbit will put you back in their good graces right enough." 

"It's really not like that," Luna observed. Though technically it was a protestation, there was no sense of indignity in her voice. 

Severus took a deep, stabilizing breath, and eased himself and his unwieldy body onto the exam table. 

"Just be on your way, Miss Lovegood," said Dr. Casablanca. 

"Yes," agreed Severus, "and let this old man have just one last vestige of dignity." 

"I don't think you really want me to go," Luna said, entering the exam room and sitting on the doctor's stool. Her legs splayed apart on either side of the stool, almost as prettily as her books had spread their pages across the floor. 

It almost made Severus blush, though his lower apparatus hadn't worked properly in so long that he couldn't really feel aroused. But even the thought of being aroused made him feel immediately more timid and bashful. 

Was he really so suggestible? Dammit, he'd gotten soft in more ways than one. It irritated the hell out of him, except that Luna had such a pretty and beguiling smile. And the way she focused her eyes upon him so intently, he could almost pretend that she was attracted to him. 

He hated himself for this imagined flirtation, but what harm could it do? There was so little positive attention paid to him from the fairer sex these days. He should allow himself to just enjoy the sensation of having a woman be interested in him. 

Doctor Casablanca, bless him - he was at the end of his patience, and Severus couldn't help but smirk at the way the healer's fingers were pulling at his own hair. 

"Miss Lovegood, this is quite irregular," blustered the doctor, "will you *please* leave my office immediately?" 

"What time should I be back, again?" asked Luna, getting up from the stool. Her eyes were still wide and bright, and focused on Severus' own. 

Severus' eyelashes fluttered and he stared at the floor, trying to pretend that he didn't like her interest. 

"My office closes at six, as I told you before," snapped the doctor. "Now please, don't you have some papers to write?" 

"I do," Luna responded slowly. Severus couldn't help it - he glanced back up at her again, and she smiled broadly at him, as if he'd told her some secret. "I'll be back at six. Unless my old professor would be interested in joining me for dinner? Six o'clock at Veridad, on Wilshire Boulevard?" 

Taken aback, Severus tried to defend himself. He was familiar with the restaurant; there had been a review in a recent gourmet magazine that landed on his desk. It was high-end, and exceptionally expensive. He rolled his eyes. "What, do you take me for an easy mark, Miss Lovegood?" 

"Oh, no, not at all," said Luna, and there was such surprise in her voice that he was tempted to believe it was sincere. "I'll pay." 

A free dinner with an enchanting young woman? Well, Severus couldn't look a gift horse like this in the mouth too closely. "It'd be a crime to refuse," he said, and added, "Even if it is only out of pity." 

"Pity for what?" Luna Lovegood asked. The question, asked by anyone else, would have been clearly disingenous. But she seemed genuinely puzzled. 

Either she was a good actor, or she really didn't understand why he might think he was pitiable.

And, well, Severus knew that in either case, he'd be an ungrateful wretch to throw away this opportunity. 

"Six o'clock. Veridad," Severus reiterated, raising a curious eyebrow at her. 

"Thank you," Luna Lovegood said, beaming from ear to ear - which astonished him more than the whole interaction. "See you then." 

"A bientot," Severus said, with an uncharacteristic flourish. 

As soon as the young lady was out the door, Dr. Casablanca shut it and practically begged, "Please, forgive this incident, Mr. Snopes. You know how seriously I take confidentiality. She's only recently arrived, and today is the frist day she's been here when I've been working. I had no idea she'd be so cavalier about this. You can rest assured that-" 

"Oh, shut up," Severus said, waving his hand at the doctor's stool. "It seems I've got a date, which is unusual enough that I can't be bothered to give a shit how it came about." 

Then, looking at Dr. Casablanca's crestfallen face, a sudden thought struck him. 

"She - erm, she isn't attached, is she?" Severus asked, cursing himself for not having noticed whether or not she was wearing a ring. 

"As it happens, no," the healer answered, frowning. He seemed disappointed, though. "Her marriage to Rolf Scamander recently ended. She's been hired as a researcher at Long Beach School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I've been hosting her until she found a place of her own to live. Though it isn't my place to tell you any of this." The doctor continued to seem glum. 

"You appear disappointed," Severus observed, sitting back on the exam table, trying to get comfortable. 

"Well, I am, I must confess," said the doctor, removing his spectacles and wiping them carefully. "I was hoping..." 

Then, with a rush of realization, he put his glasses back on. "So sorry, it doesn't matter. Lean back, if you would, and let me feel if that tight spot at the spleen has loosened up with the new medication." 

Severus obediently laid back and pulled his shirt up, letting the doctor run his hand clinically across his taut, bloated skin. 

"You don't consider me serious competition, do you, Georgio?" Severus asked, wincing with pain as the doctor pressed at tender areas. "I mean, look at me." He chuckled lowly, all too aware of the distressed marks that lined his distended stomach. "I'm even more hideous than I was ten years ago, and I already was an aesthetic nightmare." 

"Oh, well, whatever you say, Xander," answered the doctor. He frowned, but Severus wasn't sure if it was a reaction to what the healer felt or heard. 

Either way, Severus wasn't keen to find out. It strangely made him feel hopeful, to see the doctor so jealous. Of course it wasn't wise to be hopeful, but Severus was trying not to second-guess his hopes anymore. He'd take them on the rare occassion he got them, even if they were usually disappointed. 

Once he got his new prescriptions, he practically dashed out the door and catapulted towards Wilshire Boulevard, his mind afire with the curiosity that came with impossible dreams. 

..........................


	2. introspections and expectations

Severus was early for the appointment at La Veridad, even though he'd had to make a rapid errand to his personal shopper at Nordstrom's.

It was fortunate that he'd just put in an order for a new suit when he was up here last month. He still didn't know what had possessed him to put in the order in the first place, though now it seemed improbably serendipitous.

He never wore a suit, even for business meetings - but for some reason last month, Lucas had thrust some elegant silky fabric beneath his fingers. And perhaps out of sentimentality (missing the tight-fitting frock coat of his Hogwarts teaching years?), or perhaps out of simple indulgence, he'd agreed to the purchase. With *all* of the appropriate accouterments, from Ascot to cufflinks to new socks.

Perhaps it had something more to do with Lucas's tender ministrations with the extra-long measuring-tape, if Severus was honest with himself. Ministrations that he could never refuse, for Severus was too starved for human touch and kindness.

While Lucas purported to be a happily married hetero man, Severus had noticed the suggestive, strategically-placed earring.

Lucas's fingers always lingered at the skin near Severus' collar. And under his breath, Lucas would whisper crisply to himself in Spanish, numbers that always seemed to grow larger with every fitting. And Lucas' hand pressed firmly into Severus' swollen thigh as he bent down to take the inseam. And he'd say without a pulse of any shame, as the tape went around Severus' waist, "Don't suck it in, my friend; you can't fool me." And then Severus would relax his nonexistent stomach muscles, and as the bulge would bulge further outward in exhaustion, the younger man would tsk sympathetically, "There we are."

Well, Severus knew that any tenderness Lucas had - it was all for the sake of the commission. The salesman probably clucked his tongue in pity at Severus' fat arse as the old wizard waddled away. But whatever. Lucas was not afraid to play Severus' wallet to his own advantage, that was clear. And Severus didn't mind, even if he felt dirty for letting his mind flirt with the prospect of stolen, inappropriate affection.

It was actually pretty obvious, how wanting Severus was for companionship and human touch. What other man in his right mind would go to the tailor on a near-monthly basis, to buy expensive clothes that had little to no utility in his daily life?

While Severus didn't consider himself the fey type, he did entertain more flexibility around such things than most straight men would. The things he'd done with Lucius Malfoy back in the day... well, it would give that stick-in-the-mud Draco apoplexy.

All of this was to say, it was rather bloody fortunate that Severus was nursing this little crush on a Nordstrom sales associate, because it meant he would look halfway presentable for a date with Luna Lovegood. Hopefully.

...................

And, well, he actually could clean up quite well when he wanted to. After picking up his new suit, he took his sweaty arse for a quick trip to the local sports club and spa for a refreshing swim. While there, he also obtained a pedicure to tame an ingrown toenail and an excellent session in the sauna that almost put him to sleep. These things, while luxuries, were not outside the realm of his typical routine.

But he did make an extra effort to wash the chlorine from the pool out of his hair, and he even went so far as to use the hairdryer (which he *never* did because they were so godawful loud.)

Then he got himself a couple sandwiches and some iced tea at Starbuck's. Thus equipped, he raced out of the mall towards Veridad.

He soon found himself munching with embarrassment as he realized that he was pre-gaming. He didn't want to make a pig of himself in front of Luna. It made him feel desperately, painfully pathetic to realize he lacked so much confidence in his self-control.

But soon enough, he'd wiped all the crumbs away and was standing at the bar at Veridad, a good twenty minutes early despite his busy afternoon.

His back ached, but fortunately the stools were neither too tall nor too flimsy, so he gingerly settled upon one and ordered a rum and coke. Of course, Dr. Casablanca wouldn't approve. But Severus hadn't had a drink in *years,* and if there ever was a time to break that rule, it was the night Severus was going to strike out with a pretty girl. Or maybe even just get stood up - he wouldn't put anything past that ditzy woman.

Hmm. Ditzy perhaps, but also intelligent. He'd always been tremendously infuriated by Luna Lovegood as a student - one moment she'd turn in a paper that she'd clearly scrawled fifteen minutes before class, the next she'd produce a potion of exceptional potency that rivaled Severus' own in terms of quality. She had so much more potential, and she squandered it without thought as she moseyed around in her little imaginary world. Grades never mattered to her, and she never begged for second chances.

In hindsight, he was mostly amused by the memories he had of her. Though of course in the moment, when he'd been tied up with five thousand stressful things to do before breakfast, her blase attitude towards the lessons that he'd planned so fretfully... well, it was galling.

But time does things to minor traumas like these, sometimes - and in retrospect, Severus was unbothered by her incorrigible behavior.

In fact, as he considered it in that dim-lit bar, he realized that this was one thing about Luna that rather reminded him of Lily Evans.

Oh. Lily.

All roads went back to her eventually.

He felt a stabbing pain just below his breastbone - somewhere in the vicinity of his liver. But this was typical for him, when he thought about Lily. She had a toxic influence on him far more poisonous and long-lasting than the venom that ruined his body in '98.

And so, Severus drank with a somber face, observing that the low-key ambient music augmented his maudlin mood. Nina Simone's throaty voice, backed by heavy piano chords, sang out the words of 'Lilac Wine.' He hadn't heard this version of the piece before, instead of the more familiar contemporary Jeff Buckley cover. But this piece, in all its contemplative simplicity, perfectly captured his mood.

_I lost myself on a cool damp night_  
_I gave myself in that misty light_  
_Was hypnotized by a strange delight_  
_Under a lilac tree_

Severus closed his eyes and listened, feeling the words wash over him. He was hungry for their meaning, and ached with chords of painful recollection. He thought of Lily, as he often did, in the pretty pink dresses that she insisted on wearing despite her mother's pleas otherwise. The way her hair curled just a little bit, naturally, just at the ends. Her beauty always hypnotized him, from their early age onwards. She'd bewitched his mind, ensnared his senses.

He remembered cool spring evenings where he'd walked to her house from Spinner's End. He'd see the Evans family having supper at the table, Lily's hair shining brighter than the candlelight. And sometimes, if he was hungry enough (which was most of the time), he'd knock at the door.

There was always enough food at the Evans' house, even when times were tough and Severus' father spent their last tuppence at the pub. Perhaps that's part of why Severus consoled himself with food, these days - if he was completely honest, it wasn't just his potions that made him this big. The potions were the catalyst that sent him into obesity, sure - but he the rest of his current weight was the result of creature comfort, pure and simple.

_I made wine from the lilac tree_  
_Put my heart in its recipe_  
_It makes me see what I want to see_  
_And be what I want to be_

His bodily self-abuse hadn't begun with food, though. The potions made him miserable and gain weight, sure, but only a few piddly stone. The real problem was the drinking, and that had been a non-stop fuckfest of binging for two full years until his liver gave out. He'd far overtaxed it with the combined potion toxicity plus constant stream of alcohol in his system. He spent nearly every waking moment in a bottle, from the moment he set foot in the States in May 1998 to the moment he passed out with acute liver failure at a posh bar in Houston at ten in the morning in November 2000, Trying to forget everything that had happened over the past forty years, trying to numb the delayed grief and the volcano of trauma that threatened his sanity, trying to erase himself from his life.

  
_When I think more than I want to think_  
_I do things I never should do_  
_I drink much more_ that _I ought to drink_  
_Because it brings me back you_

He'd taken to full-time alcoholism like a fish to water, following in the footsteps of his much-loathed father. Severus hadn't been much of a drinker during the wars - he was under too much scrutiny from Dumbledore (and later the Dark Lord) to risk anything more than a few bingey weekends a year when he was feeling particularly foul. But without Albus popping in to bother him bright and early on a Saturday morning, it had been far too easy to lose himself in the sweet temptations of Napa wines and aged scotch.

Particularly since Albus left him the better chunk of the Dumbledore family's earthly inheritance, safely secured in a Gringott's account under Severus' own name. It was more money than Severus could dream of using in three lifetimes. And it meant that he didn't have any obligations, he didn't have to show up to work anywhere, he didn't have to do anything. He was required to do nothing, and his life was completely open and free.

Finally, sweetly, he was infected with the calm after a lifetime of storms. But after too many years of being a metaphorical runner, constantly hurrying hither and thither, he was unable to actually find himself any balance in life. He was drunk on the absence of activity, the absence of obligation, the absence of certainty. And it was too much to cope with, and so he'd succumbed to the mess of drink, with its comforting beacons.

Lilac wine is sweet and heady, like my love  
Lilac wine, I feel unsteady, like my love

And then came the day he woke up in a hospital with stiches in his upper abdomen and the stern wagging finger of a Houston surgeon.

Later Severus learned the hospital took great pains to keep him alive solely because Severus had the best insurance that American dollars could buy - purely by chance, because Severus couldn't remember having signed up for it. Well, maybe it'd been the fault of his Disappearer Keeper, that frowning old man in a Knockturn Alley shoe-store-slash-notary-shop. At least it was bloody worth it; Severus certainly had paid him enough for the privilege of forged Muggle documents.

Thus armed, Severus resolved to a clean sweep. And since, he'd been completely successful with regards to the alcohol - heavens knew he didn't need additional incentives to dry himself out - but then his problem had turned to food.

And, well, that had got him into his current predicament.

_Listen to me, I cannot see clearly_  
_Isn't that she, coming to me nearly here?_

He opened his eyes and sipped his drink, only to see Luna Lovegood sashay elegantly into the restaurant. Well, 'elegantly.' It seemed of very little concern to her that her hair was full of twigs and leaves, and that she had a huge smudge of clay across her cheek. And she wore the same outfit in which he'd last seen her, brown boots and a tight dress and capri leggings that ineffectively hid her hairy legs. Her braid had come partially undone, and its stray frays framed her face very prettily indeed.

The maitre-d was obviously offended but remained laudably unflappable; he noticed Severus gesture though and decided they were just an eccentric rich couple of fools. So with a flourish, he accompanied them to their table and whisked menus into their hands, promising to send their waiter directly.

Notably, he gave Severus the one with the prices.

_Lilac wine is sweet and heady where's my love?_  
_Lilac wine, I feel unsteady, where's my love?_

"How are you?" rumbled Severus as they skimmed the offerings, feeling miserable and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Quite well, thank you," Luna said without pause, and then immediately flipped the menu over so it was upside-down.

Severus cast a querying glance, which she met brightly. "Looks more appetizing this way," she said, smiling.

"Does yours have pictures?" Severus asked with a bit of an amused smirk.

Instead of simply ignoring the snipe, Luna took it seriously, and she looked closely into the wide blank margins as if reading tea-leaves. "Not that I can tell," she said cautiously, "but then again, the Warblefolk tend to use invisible ink in their parchment paper."

"The kind you can see if you heat it?" Severus asked, feeling a bit saucy in response.

"I wouldn't know," Luna responded, and added hazily, "It's on the inside."

Listen to me, why is everything so hazy?  
Isn't that she, or am I just going crazy, dear?

Severus chuckled at this, but simultaneously felt the bottom of his stomach drop out from inside him.

Fuck. Despite all his denial, here he was.

And here *she* was, more importantly.

She wasn't running away at the second glance of him. She wasn't pouting prettily as she gave him a pathetic excuse for an infinite rain check. She wasn't pulling out the chair from under him and running away glibly. Instead, she was just sitting, here, with him, trying to have a nice dinner.

Fuck.

Years of therapy with a couple of highly-recommended and very expensive analysts in Carpinteria hadn't prepared him for this. Wait - well, of course they had. Technically. Severus hadn't thought he'd need to call them back again so damn soon and bemoan his condition.

Though truth be told, he knew what they'd say. Oh poor him, all set and ready for the inevitable rejection that hadn't even arrived yet. _Scrambled eggs all over his face. What *is* a boy to do?_

He desperately didn't want to think right this moment, and so without further ado, he finished off his drink. But he also set a spoon on the rim of the glass, to prevent an overly-helpful waiter from automatically taking it for a refill.

He didn't need to get drunk and ruin this night further than he could do on his own, mostly sober.

_Lilac wine, I feel unready for my love_  
_Feel unready for my love_

Luna was reading aloud beneath her breath, and Severus recognized an adorably mangled French accent. Not that he was generally the type of fellow to know what a perfect French accent sounded like, but spending a lot of time with Lucius Malfoy taught a man things that a man wouldn't ordinarily want to know.

"That's 'boeuf,' Severus corrected gently, the humor a bit thin in his voice.

"You don't have to pretend you're comfortable," Luna said, looking up at him sharply. "I know you're not."

There was that damnable insight, honed and razor-sharp - and better than he remembered it. It transformed him into what he felt to be a bumbling old fool.  
  
"Well," Severus said, and sighed. "Well."

He really didn't know what to say. His chest was swelling with anxiety, his heart was getting a massive workout, and he began to feel sweat pooling in his pits.

But Luna - bless the girl! - turned back to the menu, and offered him her hand, sliding it across the table towards him as if it hid some great secret. The gesture surprised Severus, at first, and he didn't know what to think until she asked him: "Would you hold this for me?"

He proceeded to delicately turn over her hand, only for her to grasp onto his own like a Venus flytrap. This alarmed him for a moment until he realized how soft her skin was, and how gently she touched his palm with her thumb, and how sweetly she gazed at him as he fumbled awkwardly.

"Unless you don't want to?" she prompted, and made as if to draw away from him.

But Severus was too greedy to lose one second of precious human contact, and he held her with renewed energy and tightness.

"No," he hissed, feeling a tight coil of lust rising up his throat. "I want it."

She proceeded to grin at him, and it made the corners of her eyes crinkle.

Oh, she was beautiful, though age had not been easy on her. She was weatherworn and oversunned, and it showed in the wrinkles of her skin. Despite her plumpness, there was a wiry kind of strength in her hands that eclipsed her essence of otherworldliness. She wore a simple antique ring on her finger, one that hummed with immense magical properties as Severus' thumb grazed it. Honestly, she looked around ten years younger than him rather than the gaspworthy twenty-odd. The most strikingly similar thing about her was her hair, and her ever-present dirigible earrings, which looked delectable in the low light of the restaurant.

Severus nearly felt faint at the thought of letting his lips graze upon her earlobe and their attending decor. Would they taste sweet, like real dirigibles? *Were* they real dirigibles, magically preserved? Maybe even candied?

He loved the idea but quickly tamed the thoughts into submission. He wasn't going to entertain thoughts that were such impossibilities. More likely than not, he'd say something Stupid with a Capital S, or Luna would realize that he was a big fat Ugly Arse with a capital U, or some combination thereof, and the evening would end with either vitriol or a cordial but firm goodbye at the restaurant door.

Or maybe even she'd get up to use the loo, and never come back. That was an oldie but goodie.

Severus had been on a number of dates a few years ago, when he lost a little weight and was trying to impress himself with online dating. It ended up being far too depressing a state of affairs, but it at least gave him some experience with all the worst options.  
  
Instead of contemplating future impossibilities, he would content himself with Mindfulness and Being In the Present. Just like his analysts told him to do. Be here, he told himself, be attentive. Be curious.

"What have you been up to all day?" he asked, trying not to imagine what his fingers might feel if he played with her silken, silvery hair.

"Oh, the usual," Luna said with mild absentness. She laid down her menu, and met his eyes. Her glasses caught the reflection of the candlelight, and she seemed to sparkle even in the dimmness. "But I suppose you don't really know what is my usual, now do you?"

"Not really," he agreed, feeling like an incredibly old fool because he just didn't want her to stop talking. Her voice was so soothing and lovely, and *fuck,* he was so lonely a Hippogriff would probably have been good enough company tonight.

"Then let me enlighten you," she said primly, as if she was the one wearing a power suit and not an ill-fitting outfit that looked like it came out of a thrift store. "I'm working on a research survey of magical wildlife here in Los Angeles."

"That sounds like a big job," Severus said, and almost cringed at himself. His words sounded so plain and pandery. Why was he just so impossible right now?

"It is indeed," Luna said, her eyes wide and large and searching. And under them, he felt far more vulnerable and uncomfortable than he'd ever felt beneath the legilimency of the Dark Lord or Dumbledore.

Perhaps the world would be a different place if Tom Riddle had been a pretty, unnerving girl instead of an angry, charming boy.

"I just wish my interns were more competent," she added with a sigh, and then Severus felt a growth of warmth in the cockles of his heart. She hated teaching, too. Of course she did. She wasn't the educative type.

"I think I know how you feel," Severus said comfortably. He was about to elaborate, but Luna interrupted.

"I'm sure you do. I truly don't know why they even made you teach potions to mixed groups of first years. Half the class had grown up making their parents' tea and coffee with magic, and half the class had never used a wand before in their lives. It never made much sense to me, to sort us by year for such a practical class."

"Right?" Severus agreed vigorously. "It's not as if there was First Year Quidditch or some nonsense. Once you were on the team, you were on the team, and if you didn't make the cut, you didn't play the proper games."

And then, he realized that they were in a public, Muggle place, and here they were discussing magic without so much as a cone of silence.

"Indeed," Luna said, and seemed to want to continue, but Severus raised a warning finger. Their waiter was arriving.

They set about ordering - Severus chose a ribeye steak accompanied by several sides of vegetables and a wedge salad that promised to be mostly cheese. Luna surprised him by ordering a literal rack of ribs. Not a half-rack, a full rack. Of ribs. Accompanied by enough fixin's to satisfy Severus on a hungry day.

Severus just quirked his eyebrow at her as the waiter walked away.

"What?" asked Luna, and gazed calmly at him. "Did you think I'd be a vegetarian?"

He thought for a moment and realized that, well, he probably had assumed that. But the quantity of the food was more what had surprised him.

"I... would not have guessed otherwise," he said slowly, assessing the way her nose slightly wrinkled in apparent displeasure.

"Well, that would be wrong," she answered, and she took a sip of root beer from the glass attentively brought her by the waiter. After a long, refreshing draft, she murmured, "I love animals, but I've been studying them for too long to forget that humans are the ultimate omnivores."

And then she smiled, and that smile was simultaneously predatory and also immensely adorable. It was a foxy smile, like a shibo-inu - there was a paradoxical wisdom and also a little bit of humor.

With that, Severus suddenly realized with mild embarrassment that she was apparently undressing him with her eyes.

He folded himself up smaller in his chair, tightening himself into a hedgehoglike ball of doughy lard. She had the temerity to look a little disappointed that he was taking up less space.

"I see," Severus said, feeling much more on the defensive than usual. He actually found his cheeks heating a little, and he tried to figure out some distraction from the way she was sizing him up from across the table.

Was she really hungry - for him?

It simultaneously freaked him out, but also made him really hard.

Trying not to blush, he dug into the fresh basket of bread the waiter lay upon the table, not even bothering to butter his slice out of self-consciousness.

"Mm," Luna said softly, reprovingly. "Don't you want some butter?"

So saying, she took the butter knife and slathered it across his unbitten slice, leaving a silken melty trail of deliciousness.

Severus brought it, thus attired, to his mouth, and he felt it burst with flavor like kisses splashing across his tongue.

He was really lonely, he remembered anew, and he found himself turning desperate. He didn't want to lose this chance - he *must* find a way to bed her this night. Even if it required all kinds of comedy-of-errors tomfoolery, he'd make it happen.

Incredibly, the way Luna beatifically looked upon him as he breathed in the warm bread, she seemed like this was what she wanted, too.

It was strange, but also...

...well, it was really just strange.

Severus didn't know what the fuck to do with himself but enjoy the ride until it was over.


	3. black holes and revelations

Severus proceeded to finish off the bread basket, but not without decent help from Luna. She nibbled so prettily, her eyes wide and inviting as she ate, and she chattered like a bird. 

Which was just as well, because Severus was falling madly for her. 

He considered himself incredulously, his inner self stern and reproving. *She was your student,* his inner self hissed, *surely you can't be thinking these things.* '

*But I never thought them when she was my student,* his more forgiving self countered. *Doesn't that amount to something?* 

*You know what she looked like as a child, and somehow you're able to reconcile that with your attraction to her?* 

*As it happens, yes, I can. She looks older now. She looks womanly. Very, very womanly. Womanly in a way I never could have anticipated. She was just a slight little thing...* 

*Yes, she was. When she was your STUDENT, might I remind you?* 

*Remind me all you like. In the meantime, I'd prefer to be student to whatever she's got between her thighs.* 

Of course, none of this was directly related to Luna's chatter. On the surface level, Severus was attending to the conversation, and as she paused, asking "And haven't you ever felt like that, just so desperately connected with everything around you? Knowing that you're in exactly the right place at exactly the right moment in time?" 

"I can't say that I have, really," Severus responded, feeling just the slightest bit lost. But it was a pleasant kind of lost, the kind of lost you get when walking in familiar woods at night - in the distance able to see the welcoming warm lights of home, but still feeling the closeness and danger of possibilities immediately around you. 

Possibility. That's something he hadn't really felt in a long time. It's what excited him about this interaction with Luna. Despite her name, he more thought of her as a very bright star, giving him something in the vein of hope. 

Even if this evening ended sourly, he felt like he could treasure the memory of this moment, of this feeling, of this wonder. 

Possibility wasn't even something Lily Evans ever had inspired. She had inspired a sense of despair by highlighting the fact that he didn't belong where he was. He had seen Lily and had seen how inadequate and pathetic he was. He had seen the Evans family and seen how inadequate and pathetic his family was. He had seen the home she lived in and seen how inadequate and pathetic his own home was. Everything she made brighter, she simultaneously cast the rest around her into darkness. 

But Luna didn't have this quality. She didn't carry with her a sense of stability. She clearly came from another world, like Lily did, but the world was one no one could ever really enter. And in this remoteness, there was actually something rather comforting for Severus. Lily's magic world was one that her family was part of, and actually other people at Hogwarts were part of. Lily's magic was that of the Normal. 

Luna's magic was that of the Abnormal, and aside from her father (who Severus had known only slightly), no one else had ever tread in that world. It was one that she inhabited completely, the magic of dual realities. She existed with grace and humor and wit, simultaneously straddling two planes of existence and laughing about it. It didn't feel like she was dancing through the woods ahead of him, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs to follow - it felt like she was walking with him, maybe flying at times, maybe not quite real at other times, but nevertheless she was constant even when she wasn't constant. 

In a sense, Luna wasn't cruel, not even by accident. She didn't taunt him with the impossibilities of a dreamscape that never could quite get under his fingers. Instead, she floated about in her own dreamscape that he knew was wild and untamed, and she wasn't inviting him in. She wasn't inviting anyone in. It was her own, and she didn't feel a need to share it. And in that, it was not exclusive, not a party to which he wasn't invited. No one was invited, but he could see through the windows inside closer than anyone else at this moment. And she was there, handing him a rose while he outstretched his hand for her. 

"I'm feeling that now," Luna said softly, drinking in the quiet of Severus' contemplation. "I think you need me." 

Severus snorted. "What does it matter what I need? And why aren't you asking me all kinds of questions?" 

He wasn't upset, just curious. If he'd been sitting with Hermione Granger - oh gods and heavens forbid!!!! - he'd be at the mercy of the Spanish Inquisition. But instead, Luna was just... there. As if she'd always been there, or never had been, and like time didn't matter at all to her. 

*Gods, she is beautiful.* 

"What questions would you have me ask?" Luna asked, a little smile quirking on her face. 

"Oh, I don't know," Severus groaned, waving his hand in annoyance as a waiter tried to take his glass back to refill at the bar. "Where have I been, what have I been doing, why haven't I come back to bloody Hogwarts, I don't know." 

"I think all of that is self-evident, though, isn't it?" Luna asked, and she continued to gaze steadily at him. 

He rolled his eyes. "Is it?" 

"It seems so," Luna said thoughtfully. "You've been here. You've been living your life. And Hogwarts is a nuisance that you always hated so why would you ever want to go back? I know I wouldn't." 

Severus snorted again, but quieter this time. "I suppose that's all you need to know about me."

"Well, no," Luna said, and she looked a bit sad. "These are hypotheses, you know. Not yet proven by the data. I have to observe now and see what new information emerges." 

This was Severus' language, and as Luna spoke, a lump started to form in his throat. He hadn't felt so damn hopeful in so long. Without a doubt, he knew he wanted her, and wanted her badly. And it seemed increasingly likely that either this was some great cosmic joke, or he was about to get lucky tonight. Hope against hope. 

"How long will that take?" he asked rumblingly, feeling exceptionally vulnerable and humble. The power coursing through his veins gave him enormous energy, energy he hadn't felt in a long time. Energy he hadn't *wanted* to feel in a long time. 

He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, of course - but desperately high on the wings of hope. 

It came to him suddenly, that he wasn't in any pain whatsoever. Whatever this was, it was more effective than ten years of carefully-calibrated potioneering by one of the world's finest masters. 

(Well, maybe that was his narcissism talking, but he wasn't exactly cross-checking his references this moment.) 

"Til at least teatime tomorrow," Luna said, and to accompany this ultimate anti-climax, she took a long and noisy pull at her empty glass of ice. 

Severus swallowed firmly and allowed himself a nervous chuckle. "Are you saying that this will be an overnight lab?" 

"I think so," she said, almost as if she wasn't sure - almost as if she needed to get permission from her department head before committing to the study. "I don't think Georgio will be too offended if I stay the night somewhere with you. I'll just let him know." 

Then, without further questions, she whipped out a cell phone from somewhere between her breasts, and a stylus from somewhere behind her ear, and she tapped furiously at the screen for a few moments. Then she shoved the items back in their respective hiding-places, leaving Severus almost gasping and stunned by the flash of creamy skin he'd seen at her neckline. 

"There," she said with finality, but then hesitated, sucking in her lower lip with an uncertainty that he didn't recognize on her face. "I think that'll be all right." 

"Of course it will," Severus breathed, feeling heady with lust to the point he almost was dizzy. "You can do as you like. He can stuff it." 

"Oh, that's not so much the trouble," Luna said, and grimaced just the slightest bit. "I just left my scaled raccaslider at his house, and I'm not sure if he'll be able to find her. Or, rather," she added thoughtfully, "I'm rather worried he'll find her in an inconvenient place. Specifically, his toilet." 

Severus wasn't familiar with the fabled Scaled Raccaslider, but decided not to ask. "I'm sure he'll be fine, provided he's been given warning." 

"Well, either that, or he'll have a dreadful time getting all the quills out of his behind." 

The image of Dr. Casablanca painfully removing pointy prickles out of his arse made Severus belly-laugh despite himself. To be honest, it hurt a little bit. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed with any effort, and it almost winded him immediately. 

"Oof," he grumbled after his brief burst of laughter. "Oof.' 

He put a hand instinctively on his provocative stomach, and rubbed the tender spot. The reminder of his enormity, his profundity, his humanity, and his obesity - it all sent him into a withering spiral of self-hatred. 

"Don't make me laugh again," he grumbled, looking down as he wondered where all the bread had gone. "I'm a tender soul." 

The moment the words came out of his mouth - and what on earth did they *mean* anyway? - he felt a shameful heat rise in his cheeks. 

But Luna's fingers curled around his own, and there was a sense of certainty and affection in her eyes as she gazed upon him. He raised his head and met her steady gaze, and there was something so moving there in the moment that he nearly felt like breaking down into tears. 

"I know you are," Luna said softly, and she raised his hand and put it to her lips for a gentle, elegant kiss. 

It was such a noble sign of affection, and so unexpected, that Severus was immediately distracted. Her soft, rosebud lips pressed against his fleshy knuckles, and he nearly went woozy at the gesture. 

She covered the bridge of his hand with her other hand, and she stroked him. Her fingers dug just a little bit into his soft, slightly swollen flesh, and the pressure as she made contact with his tendons and bones made him feel like she wasn't afraid of deepening their connection. Wasn't afraid of working with the massive ball of blubber he'd become. Wasn't afraid of his mortality, his forlornness, his figurative and literal pain. 

"It's all right," she added, as certain in her attention as she could possibly be. "I'm here. And I don't tattle on feelings. Especially to their owners." 

He quirked an eyebrow at her quizzically, which was what he needed to push back the tears that were starting to form in his ducts. But he couldn't say anything, couldn't trust his voice, couldn't trust himself not to burst into emotion right there in the middle of the elegant restaurant. 

He really couldn't believe this, and was positive he must be dreaming. His analysts would have a hoot looking over the brittle bones of this feast tomorrow, once he regurgitated it all up to them. 

Even more so once she said, "You know, I'm not sure that I'm very hungry right this moment. Would you feel terrible if we took it boxed?" 

.............................. 

Soon enough they were in a hotel room, and as soon as Severus flicked on the lights, he felt like he'd let himself down. Without thinking, he'd taken them straight to the no-frills Hyatt close to the sports club. The place he spent most of his bachelor nights when he came to L.A., when he couldn't be bothered to drive back home. He regretted everything as soon as the fluorescent lights came on, harsh and rough on his appearance even though it was somewhat more elegant than usual. He remembered too many fruitless nights wanking to the pay-per-view BBC shows - too pathetic to even watch proper pornography, he preferred the more homespun 1800s look of a Jane Eyre or Sense and Sensibility type show. It made him feel a little more at home, too, to hear the pretty girls' accents as he imagined lifting their dresses and fucking them til their candle snuffed itself out. 

All this vivid recollection came to him with horror, but Luna didn't seem to notice - instead stripping off her clothes almost immediately once the door closed. 

"Aren't you ready?" she asked, fretfully, turning around with her pretty little bush fully exposed. 

"Erm," he stalled, and he went over to the window to draw the curtains. Because obviously it was worth it to worry about Peeping Toms on the twentieth floor of an urban hotel. Then, carefully, he went and turned on the sconces near the bed, which produced a softer light. And with a wordless wave of his hand, the main room light switched off. 

Then, he couldn't help but smile. Luna was a vision of perfection. Her tummy looked bigger now that she was undressed, and it offered itself to him like a dumpling. Her thighs were lusciously dimpled and generously apportioned, with a wide large circumference that promised a full and delicious behind. 

What surprised him was this, however: a small, turtlelike form just below Luna's stomach, meekly bobbing from amid the overgrown tresses of her bush. 

His surprise was enough to distract him from his own self-image issues, and while he tried not to show it, Luna could read it plainly in his face. 

"You didn't know?" she asked quietly, putting a hand protectively around her little flabby cock. "I thought teachers talked about these kinds of things." 

"Your head of house didn't precisely... like me that much," Severus murmured, seating himself on the bed. For a moment, he caught his breath, and then dismissed his misgivings. "Sorry," he said lowly, "It doesn't change things. I'm just surprised." 

"I... I'm glad," Luna said, seating herself down next to him on the bed. She sighed. "I'm surprised that you're surprised." 

He chuckled to himself, wondering how to recover from his... faux pas? Was it? Willful ignorance? He wasn't sure. But then again, it really didn't matter too much to him. He knew what to do with this kind of equipment. 

"Lay back," he commanded throatily, and patted the bed near the pillows. "I've got some work to do, it seems." 

So saying, as Luna gratefully complied with his demand, he set about making that little bud blossom in his mouth.  
................. 

After some heady, heady sex, Severus lay back, wondering where it had all gone right, for once. Luna was heating up their food in the pathetic little hotel microwave, humming to herself. Her wobbly, delicious buttocks jiggled as she moved, and Severus sighed in contentment as he watched her. He now knew exactly like those arse-cheeks tasted like, and he was eager to taste them more, and deeper. 

But for the moment, food seemed to be the pressing issue, and he relaxed happily into the pillows of the bed, feeling quite buttered-up and distinctly pleased with himself. He was still wearing his undershirt and boxers, having avoided their removal in their games, and now he looked forward to watching Luna devour all of that delicious food she'd ordered. 

Of course, she presented him his steak cold, since it'd be ruined in the dumb little box, and he chomped at it hungrily - feeling justified in his eating for the first time in a long while. How many calories had they burned? Quite a lot, and he was feeling it in his calves, and his glutes, and his thighs, and he deserved every bite of this damned restorative protein. 

Soon enough, Luna was curled up next to him, still exquisitely naked, but bearing gifts in the form of grilled vegetables, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, teriyaki broccoli, and of course a massive pile of ribs. 

"Hi," she said softly, and pressed a tender kiss against his cheek. 

He returned it silently, taking a deep breath of her scent as he leaned in, and Severus wondered how many times he'd get to do that - smell her - before he'd have to reconcile himself to her absence. 

"I like you much better nowdays," Luna said, brightly. 

"What," Severus grumbled. "You mean as big as a hippogriff?" 

She ignored the bait. "You aren't so depressed. It's good. I like to see you... happy." 

*It's just because you're here, dear one,* he thought to himself, and hated himself for it. 

"Hm," was all he said aloud, and stole a spoonful of her macaroni. 

She grinned earnestly as he made eye contact with her, and she patted his stomach fondly. "And big as a hippogriff, too," she added. "It suits you." 

He rolled his eyes, not sure how to respond. Fortunately, she elaborated. "My poor father never would eat enough, after my mum died. I like a man who isn't afraid to eat." 

With that, Severus unabashedly grabbed a spoon and shoveled more hot macaroni into his mouth. If she liked a man who wasn't afraid to eat, then by all the gods in heaven, he'd eat. "Are you comparing me to your father, now?" he asked, some amusement in his voice as he stuffed his face full. 

"Well, isn't that what they say," Luna said sadly, "you kill your mother and marry your father?" 

Severus licked his lips of the wayward macaroni. "I think it's supposed to be the other way 'round." 

"That would be Oedipus," she corrected. "I'm talking about the other one. The girl. What's her name. Like River. No, that's not right." 

Severus didn't respond, and Luna didn't say anything for a moment. Then she leaned forward and licked some macaroni sauce off his nose. 

He caught himself smiling at the intimate gesture. 

Luna then went on, looking serious, "The one who kills her mother and marries her father." 

"I don't think that actually happens," he argued, feeling a trifle... playful? 

Really? Playful? How odd. 

"Well, no, it didn't happen in the story either," Luna went on, a little sadly. "But the girl plots to kill her mother, who plotted to kill the father in order that she might marry some other man." 

A flash of recollection entered Severus' mind. 

"Are we talking about the story of Orestes and Electra?" 

"Yes, Electra." Luna nodded, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

The connection wasn't obvious to Severus. "Where did you associate Electra and River?" 

"I suppose they both might have a current," Luna said with a straight face, but as Severus sternly looked down his nose at her, she began laughing. It was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, and it made his gruff heart melt like ice cream. 

"... So, you're afflicted by an Electra complex," he prompted her as she stopped laughing and pressed gentle kisses into his large belly. 

"No, actually. I'm not attracted to my father," Luna said, reclining towards the foot of the bed. "Rather the opposite of my father." Her fingers began to circle on the bare skin of his outer thigh, which tickled just a little. "He was thin, and frail, and absent, and let go of things too easily." 

So saying, she sat up, and leaned towards him. Her breast drooped invitingly and he found himself breathing more and more shallow. "You are large, and strong, and earnestly *present,* and you're possessive. All very attractive qualities, by my understanding." 

And then Luna Lovegood pressed a kiss into his receptive, eager lips, and he melted into her seamlessly. 

Then Luna withdrew and sighed. "He was an animal who only existed for me, and was content to wither away the moment he handed the responsibility for my care off to another man." 

It felt like an intimate revelation, and he withdrew slightly from the embrace. She circled him a little lower, around his shoulders and neck. And she kissed him on either cheek to accentuate her statement. "You are an animal who lives for the sake of living, not simply because you have a convenient excuse. You have *life* in you, Severus, and it thrills me." 

He didn't answer that directly, but let himself be sprinkled with kisses he felt he didn't deserve. 

"So what was your husband, then?" he asked, wondering how she'd gotten to this point where she was so... wanton. 

"A man just like my father, unfortunately," Luna said sadly. "Rolf repulsed me, for he was so polite, so caring, and so ruthlessly ashamed of himself. He was the dog with an ever-present tail between his legs. So unhealthy. So unattractive. He had no lust for anything at all. A little bird sitting in a tree, singing so prettily but always frightened, ready to fly away if startled. 

"I prefer something more grounded, more real, more mammalian." With this pronouncement, her hands slipped into the fly of Severus' boxers, and his twitchy cock was starting to feel the beginning of a new hard-on. 

"Have you ever sat and tried to imagine birds fucking?" Luna went on, laughing a little to herself. "I have seen it, and even I can't imagine it. It doesn't look or sound like anything. They just sit on top of each other and squirm until they lose their balance one too many times, then give up. It's cold and clinical and utterly dull, and there's far too much flapping about and far too little pelvic work. And there's always a sense I get that at least one of them isn't that into it - just indulging the other one's necessary biological drive. 

"Fish are like that too," she went on, suiting her actions to her words. "They curl up against each other for just the slightest of moments and then just like that, it's over." 

Severus couldn't help but feel a pang of worry strike through him. Luna then pressed a kiss of reassurance into his large distended tummy, and it made him feel weak with lust and breathlessness. 

 

"What was your mother like, then?" he asked, trying to carry on naturally. 

"I don't know, and I don't really care," Luna said, with a surprising amount of coldness. "All I know is that I'm not wanting to spend all my time with someone who doesn't want to fuck me with everything they've got." 

Severus nodded, agreeing. "Yes," he said, and then Luna came up and kissed him deeply, comfortingly, searchingly.


	4. overwhelming sensations

That night, Severus lay awake in bed, reveling in his good fortune. He was unclear on the question of what he'd done to deserve this goodness, at long last, but he was deeply grateful anyways. Perhaps the thousands of dollars he had diddled away on therapy had worked. Or maybe his medications finally were giving him the long-awaited benefit. Oh, who was he kidding - it probably had something more to do with the location of Saturn in its orbit around the sun, the way it intersected with Venus, and some other bullshit arbitrary astronomical metrics in which he had no faith. Surely that was the answer to that adorable question that was Luna Lovegood. 

Luna herself was curled up against him, snoring cutely into his armpit, one plump calf twining around Severus' own. Laying against him like this highlighted how petite she was in stature in comparison to him. Though obviously she was not petite in figure - her squishy butterlike thighs pressed tightly against Severus, creating almost an airtight seal. 

Her mass seemed to spread itself across the king-sized bed, almost like an egg that had landed in a frying pan. There was little awareness of her body as she slept, and yet she cleaved to him like a lizard on a hot rock. She took in his body odor and called it delicious. She pressed herself into his flab and called it pillowlike. She grasped him around his middle and called it sturdy. She ran her fingers across his stretchmarks and commented how it looked like Los Angeles' topography - mostly hills, partially mountains, very little water. And she pressed kisses into his large, awkward, slightly disjointed nose, and called it a massive honker. 

This last was in jest, of course, but even this felt affectionate and kind. It was just the right cocktail of appreciation and teasing that made Severus feel like this was actually something *real.* Not just a girl trying to steal his watch and flee in the night. (Joke would be on her if so; it wasn't a real Rolex, just a drugstore timepiece charmed to look like one. Severus, while a bit of a spendthrift these days, didn't see much point in spending on things that didn't actually matter.) 

He tried not to embrace her too forcefully, but it was difficult to resist. He contented himself with cupping one of her heavy, lovely breasts and fondling it. She was so delightfully *plump* and adorable, like an over-grown kitten, and he just wanted her as close to him as possible, forever. 

Luna Lovegood. He'd never have guessed this day would come, where he'd be in bed with one of his former students, trying to focus on her womanly attributes and ignore the memories in his mind that replayed painfully whenever he closed his eyes. If he was honest, he wasn't that surprised in retrospect. Of all the marrying-age English-speaking magical women in this damnable world, he'd taught a fairly large portion of them. Twenty years a teacher did that to a man. 

Of course he couldn't find himself some sensible Muggle girl his own age to wed, he had to sit and wait like a python in the brush until one of those unsuspecting darlings trampled into his path. He wasn't skilled enough in dating to land a creature he hadn't groomed with familiarity, apparently. He felt like a literal predator, he hated himself for putting her through this - the poor girl had indeed already been through more than most girls her age ever should. She didn't need *him* making her life more complicated. 

He contemplated getting up, leaving her to sleep and disappearing out of her life. She wasn't the overly-inquisitive type who would go scratching at Dr. Casablanca's files until she rustled up his address. If he went, he was fairly certain she would take the hint. 

But the pain in his upper gut overwhelmed him as he imagined this. Leaving her alone, after this magical evening they'd spent together? It would be the height of rudeness, at the very least - and it would, he was certain, be the final apex in his love life. 

There was a lot of pressure in his heart already, to make this work. He had to, or chances were, he'd never get a second opportunity like this. 

A girl who *liked* him? Who thought him, despite his current beastly pantagruelian form, *attractive?* He counted his blessings and thanked all the stars in the heavens. 

And so, he relaxed into the clean crisp sheets of the hotel bed, pulled the duvet a little tighter over them both, kissed the nape of her neck, and pleasantly let himself join her in slumber. 

....................... 

Morning came, and Severus was in the shower when Luna tumbled into the bathroom. She sat down to pee, he noticed, and then she flushed, and then she joined him under the water without so much as a good morning. Her eyes were closed the whole time. 

But her adorable little behind was too cute, so Severus didn't protest as she slipped in front of him and hogged all the water as he was mid-soap. 

She arched her neck under the water, reveling in the stream of wetness, and Severus felt himself barely daring to breathe. 

"Wash me?" she finally asked, not opening her eyes. And Severus simply couldn't say no. He gently untangled her braid under the running water, massaged her scalp with the hotel bottle of shampoo, and ran his fingers through it with conditioner. She stood there, immovable and rooted as a tree, eyes remainng tightly closed. Once her hair had been attended, Severus took the bar of soap and ran it across her skin. He was timid in his approach, not entirely sure if he was doing things correctly, up to her standards. He halfway expected that her normal routine was to bathe only in moonbeams and only use the finest natural essence of stardust and mythos on her hair. 

But these earthly tools seemed to do the trick just fine, and as he ran his fingers across her body with a washcloth to rinse, she suddenly turned around and attacked him with a tight embrace. He was nearly knocked off balance, but he chuckled and patted her shoulder. 

"You alright?" he asked, feeling strangely relaxed. 

"Yes, rather," Luna said, and she nuzzled her face between his large soft breast meat. "I just like feeling you." 

"The feeling is mutual," Severus said softly, and kissed her on the top of her wet head. "But please, be so kind as to let me have the water for a moment." 

With that, she did a strange little maneuver that resulted in a reversal, though somehow it didn't require her getting out of the tub. 

"Talented," he commented dryly, feeling her wrap her arms around his middle once again. She sighed, as if with relief, and remained there as he ran water across the rest of his body, letting go only when he detached her limbs. It was like dealing with a starfish that was tightly pressed against him from all angles, and he relished the feeling of being *so* very wanted. He couldn't remember ever having felt like this. 

At the same time, it was a bit clingy, which simultaneously was something that Severus could relate to and also something that Severus found irritating. He pushed the irritation aside and allowed her to closely follow him as he stepped carefully onto the floor mat. There was a robe hanging on the back of the door, and given how unlikely it was that he would fit in it, he offered it to her as she dried herself off. 

She accepted it wordlessly, almost looking a little grumpy, but Severus found himself smiling at the sight of her wrapped in the white fuzzy cloth. She looked fresh, and dewey, and impossibly delicious. 

"I could do with a spot of breakfast," she grumbled aloud, as he gazed at her admiringly, "specifically, coffee." And Severus chuckled. 

"But of course," he answered, and wrapped his hair in a towel. "I'll telephone room service." 

"No need," Luna said, and she padded out of the bathroom to the bed again. 

Severus finished drying himself off and then, awkwardly covering himself with a towel out of modesty, he followed her. 

The companiable silence they shared was something he appreciated. Though in his experience, someone being just as silent as him in the morning was not a good sign. Usually, with women, it meant that he'd fucked up somehow. Didn't do enough oral. Didn't anticipate their other needs. Had come too fast, too early. Didn't seem like he enjoyed himself. 

On this occassion, he didn't think any of those things had happened. So he was slightly concerned, except then he saw that Luna had spread out a veritable feast on the bedspread. 

"Coffee?" she asked brightly, seeming to be back to normal. She offered him a steaming cup while he pulled on his undershirt and pants. 

"I prefer tea," he answered with a grumble, but he accepted it eagerly after pulling his trousers buttoned. He sank down into the desk chair, pulled the towel off his head, and threw it gently across the room.

The mug, as he looked at it, was porcelain, of Eastern European design, and very old. He sipped, and it was delicious - hot and woody and nutty and bitter. It angsted across his tongue like a teenager in heat, and he swallowed greedily. 

"Sugar?" 

She didn't wait for him to answer aloud, but as he leaned forward and offered his cup, she added a *perfect* amount with a little silver tablespoon. He grunted in satisfaction as he sat back and tasted it again, and she served herself as well. 

"You carry all this with you?" he asked, spying some green cake that seemed to be calling his name. 

"I tend to shop in spurts," Luna admitted, and said, "I got all this in Tokyo. Other than the coffee." 

"You mean Little Tokyo?" he confirmed, and she shook her head. She seemed to be drinking him in, and he felt a little bashful. He was keenly aware of the way his well-formed stomach emerged from his trousers like a ship's prow bursting from the sea, taut and ungrateful as it moaned for attention in the form of food. And his plump little breasts, sagging as they did on top of several vestigial rolls of blubber that grew with the pressure of him leaning forward. 

All of this was to suggest that he felt disgusted and awkward, surrounded by this bubble of lard that he'd grown around himself. But he couldn't help but enjoy the feel of his body, even as he hated it. 

Though with the way that Luna drank him in with her sight, he couldn't bring himself to hate his body *that* much. At least not nearly as much as usual. He saw that glazed, conspiring look on her face, and he wanted nothing more than to make her appreciate him endlessly. 

Was it vain, that he wanted her to appreciate him like a fond little pet? Was it immoral, the way he wanted her to continue looking at him like he was the most scrumptious delight she'd ever seen? Was it irresponsible for him to enjoy this so damn much? 

Was it going to cost him something, in the long run? 

(The answer to this last one was obvious: it would. The question really was: how much?) 

After a few discrete moments of studying him, Luna clarified, "Japan." And with that, she plopped the carefully-wrapped green cake into his waiting hand. Of the cake, she said, "It's not very sweet. Green tea flavor." 

"Huh," Severus responded, his mouth already open and ready. He unpeeled the cake and put it in his mouth, and discovered that she was quite correct. 

"Have some milk bread," Luna added, and pressed some soft and spongy cakelike deliciousness into his free hand, spreading it with a liberal amount of butter and some maple syrup. "It's almost just as sweet for some reason." 

The green tea cake was consumed in just a few bites, so he eagerly accepted the new offering. 

It was delicious, and he thoroughly was grateful. It seemed that Luna was going to indulge him and satiate his lust in every way possible, in less than twenty-four hours! Because as he surveyed the spread, it seemed like there were dozens of new and unusual things to try. She'd exhaust his palate at this rate! And, well, he was going to enjoy every bit of deliciousness she encouraged. 

And encourage, she did. There were little rice mochi in a range of flavors and sweetnesses: red bean, marmalade, mango, strawberry, vanilla, black sesame seed, and even chocolate. Bite after bite he enjoyed the plump little dumplings that eased down his gullet so painlessly. Then some bread rolls, made with eggs and cheese, and sometimes even hot dogs - they were a little sweeter than he expected, and very dense. But also incredibly enjoyable. 

At one point in the meal, he realized that all Luna was focused on was feeding his fat face. And he observed, "Erm, don't you want to eat anything?" 

She nodded, her eyes alight. "I've had something already," she said, and gestured towards a packet that once had contained chocolate covered stick-shaped biscuits. "Sorry, I didn't leave you any chocolate Pocky." 

"That's quite all right," he answered with good humor, then opened his mouth wider to accommodate a bundle of said Pocky Sticks in a white cream flavor, dazzling with oreo cookie bits. "Is this actually Japanese?" he queried after he swallowed, and took another sip of his coffee. "Seems a bit like a digestive."

"Of course," she said innocently, smiling. "They're very popular in Japan. And elsewhere, of course," she added, with a slight giggle. 

"Hm, like the continent of Snape, you mean," he answered, his face twisting with the self-deprecatory humor. 

"Oh, I like that," Luna breathed, and she climbed up onto him with wonderment. "You being as big in mass as a country." 

"Several countries, more like," Severus retorted, raising an eyebrow. "You know the Muggles can see me, with their satellites, from space." 

Luna immediately shook her head in the negative, and he furrowed his brow; he hadn't meant her to take that seriously. She told him, "Not likely. I mean, not more likely than other magical folk. You know how, to us, satellites just look like flecks of light in the sky? That's how you and I show up on their screens, too - like just discrete specks of brightness. I dated someone at NASA for a short while," she added with a smirk. 

Smirks were unbecoming on her. He just wanted to erase the gesture from her face - with kisses. 

The passion must have shown on his own face, because Luna leaned in and pressed her lips into his. And he melted into them, feeling at once calm and warm and comfortable. 

"Oh gods," he breathed, feeling his heart beating faster. He felt like a goddamn teenager; all his feelings were at the forefront of his mind, and he was exhausted just by looking at her because just looking at her made him FEEL THINGS that he'd prefer not to feel! 

She inspired wanton abandon, that was it. He just wanted to lay her down and fuck her senseless, until his body could no longer produce semen and until her body could no longer take his thick large cock, and until both their voices were hoarse and dusty with hours of unrepentant noise. 

And they closed their eyes tightly, and simply felt each other, their bodies twisting and shifting together, hands pressing into tender crevices and caves, and their faces earnestly attached at the lips. 

After what seemed like a lifetime of kissing, exploring, and snogging, Luna pulled away and rested her head on his shoulder. 

"I don't know what to do," Severus whispered to himself, feeling at once sleepy and desperate to stay in the moment. 

"When?" Luna murmured, similarly spent. 

"Now," he answered, and he sighed. Luna slipped a little with his body's motion, and she readjusted comfortably to rest again. 

"What is there to do?" she asked, pressing another hot kiss against his neck. 

"I don't know," he emoted, realizing he had forgot what he was contemplating. 

He hadn't felt this good since his drinking days, really - so woozy and relaxed and high on dopamine. Binge-eating's high was so much less potent, in comparison. 

Was he in love? He rather thought so. 

Fuck. He didn't want to be in love. Now was *not* the bloody right time for it. He was sick, he had chronic pain, and he looked like shit. She certainly was bright enough that she'd figure out her lapse in judgment sooner rather than later, and be on her merry way. The question was, how long would she remain trapped in whatever delusion had enabled her to be here, with him? 

Oh. Double fuck. He had to call his workplace; they'd be puzzled where their gruff and punctilious resident hardass was. 

"I hate to move you," he said softly, stroking her head. "But I have to make a call." 

She didn't say anything or move her head, but she waved her wand hand at his briefcase, and his phone whizzed into his hand. 

"That also works," he said, "and also, that is some strong wandless magic," he added admiringly. 

"Lazy," Luna whispered, pressing her face deeper against his ample chin. 

He chuckled to himself, kissed her cheek, and called out sick for the day.


	5. more than a vacation

Severus felt his lips involuntarily curling back as he watched his lady struggle into the convertible. She didn't struggle like he did, with too much in the forefront and too much in the back, but rather she struggled because she carried far too many packages and bags. 

Mostly books, partially art supplies, and entirely adorable. 

She didn't need to be told how much he loved her. She could read it in his eyes and reflect it back to him. 

He'd taken a full two weeks off of work - the old misers at the lab were pretty indifferent, all things considered. And after careening up and down the coast, staying in Batesian motels and sunny seaside cottages, eating nothing but take-out and fast food, they'd both put on some happy weight. Luna's shirt buttons were positively gaping as she struggled their excess things into the backseat. The effort made her flush so damn prettily, and a lump rose in Severus' throat to see her smile. 

"I haven't worked at all since I met you," Luna confessed as she diligently pulled the seatbelt over her voluptuous, heavy breasts. "I wish I felt bad about it." 

"You need not work a day in your life, if you don't want to," Severus purred, but it was an affectation. They were a hundred miles from Los Angeles but he felt the tightness of Home and the Drudgery of his life Pre-Luna tugging at him like a drowning man grasping for a slippery log. He'd allowed himself to briefly forget what his life usually looked like, what with this enchanting creature dancing in front of his nose, and now he was kicking himself because he knew it was all going to be over, far too soon. 

At least he'd had it this long. But this thought was slim reassurance, and the thought that he would likely never have such a pleasure again... it made him feel constipated. Like he was holding everything in too hard, against the better instincts of nature. Retaining it desperately, because he knew he was about to lose it. 

It made his eyes water just to imagine it. Waking alone in his sad little two-bedroom condo, empty and meaningless without the joy of a ravishing woman to share in its simple delights. 

In truth, if he thought about it more maturely, he could recall that he'd made it a meaningful home for him. There was decor in there that he'd collected over the years - ancient pottery from Santa Fe, some modern art he'd bought when visiting Seattle, gorgeous geodes purchased from Albuquerque, some excellent first editions from Portland... his vacations were usually solitary affairs, taken mostly at an unguided whim without any care about particulars. These days he didn't dare enter an airport, terrified as he was of the hideous reactions from fellow passengers to his luxuriously abundant body. So he didn't go very far from the southwest; most of his travels these days were either up or down the West Coast, with infrequent flirtations with states on California's eastern perimeter. 

Indeed, he had built up a little collection of Things That Mattered to him, as part of his therapists' ongoing quest to help him develop a Life Worth Living. But all of it seemed to fall short when he considered that when he returned home, these things would seem like paltry replacements for such joyful companionship as Luna provided. 

With a grimace, he remembered the way he'd been contemplating rings as they rambled around one of the old Missions' gift shops. The rings for sale were shamefully inelegant things, made of nickel and emblazoned with prayers to various saints, but it had been a difficult thing to keep from purchasing one nonetheless. He didn't want this to end. So now that they were back in Santa Barbara again, ready for the final leg of their blissful two weeks' trip, he desperately tried to think of what he could do to hold on to this precious moonflower. 

What made it harder? She didn't seem to look like she planned to flit away anytime soon. As she leaned back in the smooth leather seats of his car, fiddling with a small vial in her pudgy hands, it almost seemed as if she was content to remain with him endlessly. 

It must be an illusion, though. What kind of person wanted to remain with a man like Severus Snape, much less endlessly? No matter how much he had changed. 

So thinking, he leaned towards her and pressed a kiss into her soft cheek. Her eyes danced as he pulled away, and she looked positively delighted. 

Then, he shifted gears and rolled onto the highway again, letting the glare of the sun upon the ocean mask his sadness. 

But he couldn't help but laugh as he saw Luna holding out a large plastic wand, to create bubbles with the wind as they drove down the beautiful stretch of coast.

............................ 

He pulled off the highway in Los Angeles, heading in the direction of Dr. Casablanca's house. Luna, engrossed in a book, didn't seem to notice or comment as they proceeded through Pasadena. With a heavy heart, Severus could feel time nipping at their heels, and he felt completely enraged by the time they pulled into Casablanca's driveway. 

"Oh," Luna said, looking up, and without making eye contact with Severus, she said, "We're here." 

"Yes," Severus said, barely keeping his tongue bit. He was waiting for an objection, even though he knew it wouldn't be forthcoming. She had a lovely time with him these past few weeks, he knew, but when all was said and done, his money was the bulk of her attraction towards him. 

Of course, he wasn't precisely considering all the facts. The facts, truth be told, were simply too confusing to think about. The ways she'd touched and caressed him, and kissed him, and embraced him, and fucked him... gods, he hadn't felt so *wanted* ever in his whole sodden life. The more she told him how attracted she was to him and his large, bloated carcass of a body, the more he knew this was too good to be true, and the more he knew that he could never win her heart. 

It was just too ridiculous to imagine that she might be attracted to him, genuinely. She'd pressed food into his hands at every opportunity, sure. She'd practically been unable to keep her hands off him, sure. And she'd made him feel things so delicious and gooey inside and out, sure. But the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced she was just using him. What other reason would an intelligent young woman like herself have *anything* to do with him? 

And then his heart nearly stopped, as he watched her carefully extricate herself from the passenger seat. "That was a lot of traffic," she groaned, standing and stretching with wide arms on the pavement. "But then again, that's the traditional Los Angeles experience." 

So saying, she cracked her knuckles and flashed him a smile. 

"I'll be just a moment," she stated, and she pressed a kiss onto her index finger and then extended that finger to press against Severus' nose in a gentle 'boop' motion. 

A moment? 

Severus' stomach was in his throat as soon as she said the word, and he sat there too stunned to move until she skipped back from the house into the car. 

"Had to get my raccaslider, you know," Luna explained as she opened her pocket. A small amphibious porcupine-like creature sloshed around inside, and it hissed as Severus stared at it. 

"And where, my dear, do you think you're going now?" Severus asked, not taking his eyes off the creature. It provided a convenient excuse - he didn't trust his eyes not to start dripping big ugly tears down his face if he looked up at her face instead. 

"Wherever you're off to," Luna said congenially. "I know you've got to work on Monday." 

"That I do," Severus responded, a lump in his throat. "Would you be hoping to stay... with me?" 

"I was hoping for that, yes." 

Luna's throat sounded a bit tight, but as he glanced up at her in concern, he saw her eyes were bright and full of eagerness. "I suppose I ought to ask if you want that. Though," she went on sagely, "it's clear to me that that's what you want." 

The statement made Severus feel so *seen,* and also so ridiculously vulnerable. He thought for the thousandth time how damned lucky he was that Voldemort had never taken the guise of such a disarmingly charming woman. 

"You know me almost better than I know myself," he admitted, gruff, not trusting his voice or his face or, well, any part of his body really. 

"It's not as though you're easy to read, of course," Luna replied helpfully, and added, "You're more challenging than most people." 

"But you unfurl me like a flower," he responded, somewhat bitter. 

"I think you need that," the woman said, and with a solemnity befitting Severus' dark mood, she pressed a kiss into his cheek, and she grasped his hand, wrapping her fingers around it where it clung for dear life to the steering wheel. 

"I guess," Severus said, feeling like a petulant teenager. "But I guess. I mean..." 

He gathered his breath, and he felt the sweet heaviness of his tongue, and the lingering flavor of a lemon tic-tac he'd been keeping there, and the pressure building up in his lungs as he pushed a question out. "I suppose this is your way of asking to move in with me." 

"I suppose this is *your* way of asking me to move in with you," responded Luna with a joyful giggle. His eyes pierced hers, and she remained stable and smiling in response. She didn't quail under his penetrating look. 

"I suppose it is," acknowledged Severus, feeling like a lovesick old fool. 

"My answer is, yes," Luna said quietly, pulling his fingers off the steering wheel one by one. "Of course. *Bien sur.* Surely. Truly. Really." 

She pressed her lips into his now-freed palm, and kept her eyes trained on his face. "Do you believe me?" 

He swallowed firmly, feeling the pent-up anger slowly release. 

"Indeed," he said lowly, and he squeezed her hand tightly in response. "Now how do you suppose you will like San Diego?" 

"It's closer to the equator," Luna observed. "And I would have thought a creature like you were better suited for northern, cooler regions." 

"Given I'm such a whale?" he snarked, turning some of that hostility inwards. "What with my enormous quantity of blubber?" 

"Rather," Luna said, in such a factual manner that he couldn't be angry with her for agreeing. "I would like to see how this creature has adapted to its habitat." 

"Lots of fucking air conditioning, is how," Severus chuckled with a low voice. "They call me the resident Grinch since I demand such cold environs in my office." 

"I look forward to observing you in your synthetic environment," Luna responded, and laughed a little. "Also to see if I can train you to do tricks for me." 

He gave her the best smouldering look he could manage, whilst pulling out of the driveway. "What, I don't perform to your satisfaction yet?" 

"There's always room for improvement," Luna said with a slyness in her voice, and she pinched him warmly along the upper edge of his double belly. 

Feeling his heart race with a heady mixture of lust, frantic adrenaline, and overwhelming joy, Severus just pressed pedal to the metal and did his best to make his BMW skip down the highway.


	6. flirtations and hesitations

They arrived at the condo at twilight. Usually it had a dismal gloom over it, in Severus' opinion, particularly after the sun had gone down. 

But tonight there was a change in the sight of his home. There seemed to be a twinkle in his timer-lit porchlights, and they glowed, effusive, beckoning politely. 

He got out of the car and ran a hand through his windswept hair. The solemn rubbed-brass windchime on the overhanging roof, which he'd installed only because he needed a marker to contain his magical wards...he noticed it moving for the first time in its existence there, and he realized he'd never before heard its soft vibrations intoning. 

And to top off the effect, his gardeners must have been by earlier in the day, because the grass was all freshly manicured, and it smelled like springtime. 

"How quiet," Luna observed, exiting the car and joining him. He smiled in a crooked fashion, a little bit unsure if this was a compliment, and he leaned against the hot hood of the BMW. His buns enjoyed the toasty feeling of the smooth, warm metal through the seat of his linen trousers. He especially appreciated it as Luna leaned next to him, the curvature of the car exhaling into the small of her back. 

Her hand wandered to meet his, and she pressed her tousled head against his expansive side, breathing in Severus' body odor. It was serious combination of sweat comingled with cologne - the scent of a fat, albeit stylish, old man at the end of a long California heat wave - and it still startled him whenever she did this behavior. 

"You mentioned a pool?" she added, echoing Severus' thoughts exactly. 

"A swim, then some supper?" he asked, and despite his misgivings, he wrapped his arm around her, as if hiding her from the invisible ghost s he'd left haunting the place. 

"Sounds lovely." 

So saying, she disentangled herself from him and smiled prettily, tilting her chin upwards and rolling her lips under for a split second so they turned even more rosy. It was a request for a kiss, Severus had quickly learned, and he didn't leave her wanting. His tongue searched her mouth for advance forgiveness - for he feared her rejection the moment she set foot in the place. 

*But your fears are irrational,* her lips seemed to whisper, in a strange language that could only be felt and not heard. *I accept you, and know you, and want you more than you could ever believe.* 

He groaned in response, sparks of hope daring to flirt in his dark heart. It was as painful as it was pleasurable, to feel the stirrings of such mysterious magic as love. 

Oh yes, he was loathe to admit it to his own mind, and even more loathe to voice it aloud, but he was deeply and utterly in love. Only two weeks of knowing this woman and he was sunk, like a poor smelly mammoth into inescapable tar pits (such as he and Luna had visited earlier that day at La Brea). He was without a single shred of hope that he would make it out alive, but yet he fell to the power of tantalization. 

He knew in his heart of hearts that this couldn't last, but he was foolish enough to want it to do so. 

"You really are a such an oosegay," Luna said, after a gentle tug of pulling away from him. Her round cheeks flushed so prettily, rendering his heart as squishy as a Christmas pudding. 

"And what, pray, is that?" Severus asked, fishing in his pocket for his keys as he rumbled into a full standing position. 

"Pig latin," Luna said simply, and for a moment Severus took her seriously. He tried to think of an analogue in Latin to 'oosegay,' and it momentarily baffled him to think that there was some version of Latin that she believed pigs spoke.

Then he realized -- oosegay wasn't Latin at all -- and, oh, she was pulling his leg. 

And he glared at her with a venomous grin, which made her squeal and dash away from him. He lunged after her, and then ungracefully lost his balance on the uneven concrete where a wayward tree root had bloated the driveway, and he tumbled upon the grass. Strangely, it didn't hurt all that much, despite the massive force with which he toppled, and then Luna laughed and threw herself down next to him. She bounced a little, which told him she'd cast a quick cushioning charm. 

"You're a doll," she chittered, and rolled against him in an awkward pile of plump limbs and belly that spread itself like butter across the grass. 

"You're a vixen," he swore in response, pressing his lips against the nape of her neck and thrusting his arm around her middle like he'd treat a well-abused stuffed bear. "And I can't believe that you're mine." 

"Believe it or not, it doesn't matter to me," Luna said quietly, snuggling her arse up against his hardening member. "Just as long as you behave like you believe me." 

"And what would that entail, hm?" he murmured into her ear, pulling her hair back from her neck and twirling his fingers in it, without mercy. 

"Feeding me well," Luna whimpered, pressing Severus' hand into her belly. "Tending carefully to my heart." She dragged his aching fingers up to her heavy breasts, and kneaded them into her flesh. "And loving my body." This last line was accompanied by moving his hand from her chest to her groin, and he felt the heaviness of her own little turtle unfurling beneath the lace of her dress. 

"No pants," he observed, hefting the loose weight of it through the fabric, pleased. 

"I'm out of clean laundry," Luna confessed, and laughed as he hoisted her skirt, grabbed her marvelously plump pubic area, and squeezed it like a ripe nectarine. "Now now," she chastized, though she wiggled with erotic energy. "Didn't we say we were going to be doing something else, just about now?" 

"I'm hungry," growled Severus, and with that, he withdrew his hand and began to make motions to get up. Luna whipped her lithe kittenlike body into a standing position, and she offered both her hands to aid him. Though one hand of his was slick with the moisture of Luna's pre-libidinal juices, they managed to get him upright again, and with nary another word, Severus pulled her into the privacy of the house. 

................. 

The excitement was just enough to distract him from his feelings of inadequacy, but those feelings crashed into his consciousness the moment he opened the door and dragged her over the threshold. 

First, he immediately regretted that he hadn't swooped her up in his arms and carried her inside, blushing bride or no. He certainly felt that like this was as close to getting married and bringing home a bird as he could get, and the sting of having not thought it out more carefully made him gasp audibly. 

Then, of course, looking around, all he could see were the various little unfinished projects he had around the house. 

The kitchen backsplash mosaic, only half complete and missing many colors for which that he had yet to find the perfect shade of tile; the tins of wood stain that sat on the dining table, which table he was still in the process of sanding in preparation for re-varnishing it; new oiled brass curtain fixtures that he was planning on using to replace the ones that came with the condo, sitting dusty on the bookcase, waiting for a day where Severus was light enough to climb the ladder in his garage that was only graded for two hundred and twenty five pounds. (Truth be told, he had given up on that plan years ago, but was too stubborn to hire a handyman for the task.) 

These minor details aside, Severus' space was practically immaculate, though with his obsessive compulsive nature, he felt that these were flaws of such significant order that he should flagellate himself, fiercely. 

But for us objective readers, let me describe what most of us would consider much more distinguishing features. 

The entire house (sans kitchen) had creamy white carpeting that sank beneath every footstep. The walls were painted in neutral tones, but stylish in their selection and arrangement - every corner was slightly a different shade, and the colors complemented each other effortlessly, like dunes of sand under a bronzing sun. The decor was eclectic, ranging in type from artifacts to antiquities, ancient to merely antique. 

Most of these things - clay statues of fertility goddesses, sculptures built with kowrie shells, etched Persian wood carvings - were items picked up by his Carpinteria therapists in their extensive travels, gifts brought back as demonstration that they hadn't forgotten their twice-weekly neurotic patient with dysfunctional attachment patterns and dissociative abandonment issues. 

But some of them were things he'd bought in catalogues that he'd found in their office, too - things that inspired him, as per one of their many self-care assignments. Things that reminded him of his Best Self and who he Wanted To Be. Things that were beautiful that he could actually own, without unrequited love being part of the equation. Items that, by his possessing them, would make himself more beautiful, in one way or another. 

In the sitting room, he had a rug made of recycled saris from India, and it was thick and gorgeous, easily the most colorful thing he'd ever purchased. The arrangement of pillows on his plain grey sofa varied widely, ranging from the homespun (a knitted lace affair made by his mother) to the glamorous (a sequined pillow made from the left-behind costume of a Houston stripper who spent a brief time in Drunkard Severus' bed, purely for a laugh) to the nostalgic (a ridiculously soft doeskin pelt pillow that tickled his hedonistic fancies but made him sneeze if he thrust his nose into it). They sat in strange harmony against the backdrop of dark green and black and silver: the colors of a dutifully-crocheted afghan made by Minerva McGonagall during one winter before everything at Hogwarts turned sour. 

A large brass phonograph peered from behind his potted ferns. And there were also items from Severus' own limited automobile travels: an ancient Zuni Pueblo pot from New Mexico depicting a doe and a snake in what appeared to be harmonious synchrony; dark emerald geodes he'd bought at auction in Albuquerque; a large piece of a lightning-struck Sequoia tree dating back hundreds of years that had been sculpted into an image of a single androgynous person gingerly holding their own heart; an art-nouveau illustration of storm clouds and rain that he'd purchased from a Seattle gallery; and a line of eighteenth and nineteenth century books kept in carefully pristine condition behind glass, most of which were about chemistry or alchemy. 

And to appreciate all of this bounty, he had the vantage point of deep-seated leather chairs. These shone like fat large sea lions on the beach, just as soft and heavenly to touch as whipped butter. 

In this moment of vulnerability, of course, he didn't see these manifest aspirations or muses. All he saw were the flaws in his abode, and they drowned out any positive feelings that might have emerged from the sight of his home. 

But Luna easily melted into the aforementioned chairs, and she gushed with pleasure as the chair began to gobble her up in its depths. 

She looked to him, wanting to share the joy, but quickly her smile faltered. "You seem dismayed," she said, and she added reassuringly, "Or did you forget about your infestation of wrackspurts?"

Of course, this was her way of acknowledging the feelings he was experiencing at this moment. Not able to answer immediately, he simply closed the front door and shook his head vigorously.

He went into the kitchen, which was quite readily visible to her due to an open floorplan. "Does your raccaslider need anything?" he asked, preferring not to discuss his actual feelings at this moment. Not while they were so fresh and horrible. Not while he was so needy and pathetic. 

Not when he wasn’t ready for this. 

At this thought, he was filled with terror. He wasn't ready for this. That was it. He wasn't ready for this, because he knew he couldn’t get away with this. 

A relationship? Having this woman be privy to all of his insecurities, and his depths of sorrow, and his pitiful lack of self-worth? He couldn’t possibly keep up the charade that he was a functional adult. He couldn’t possibly demonstrate his worthiness as a partner, and he couldn’t possibly be all that he wanted to be for her, much less a partner she deserved. 

He needed to send her away, straightaway, and he needed to figure out how to do so without leaving her too broken. 

He should never have agreed to wait that moment, outside of Casablanca‘s house. He should have left her there in Los Angeles, and let his last image of her be the sight of her holding her little amphibious reptilian creature, standing in that beautiful white dress and looking forlorn and confused while he drove away.

He wasn’t ready for this.

Luna, attending to the surface question, answered smoothly and that the creature in her pocket demanded a bowl of water big enough for it to wet it’s something-or-another gland. To sate it, Severus identified a Pyrex bowl and filled it with water, at the sink, and placed it on the center of the coffee table, careful to use a textured mat made out of woven jute. 

And then, he pressed a kiss on top of Luna's head, and excused himself from her presence, because he needed to make a call.


	7. painful conversations

Severus' computer had been left in sleep mode for the past two weeks, but it took just a few seconds to get it up and ready and hitched up to Skype. 

Thank goodness Miri was online. He sent a quick message asking if she was available. And, as was usual, she reported that at she had fifteen minutes to spare for an unscheduled emergency call. And so without further ado, in a few seconds, the voice call started, followed by the scowling picture of the petite woman who served as his closest female confidant.

Unlike Dr. Casablanca, Miri knew everything about Severus that there was to know. 

Everything. From magic to Albus to Lucius to Lily to that damned salesman at Nordstrom. So he did *not* use some silly pseudonym with her. Even though it probably would’ve been prudent, what with all of that Muggle bullshit communications spyware stuff. Severus was not entirely sure how all that crap under the user interface worked, but at this point in his life, he couldn’t be damned to care about his privacy nearly so much as he used to. When he was closer to them, before they moved to Carpinteria, Miri and her husband Murray had called him by his real name, and it was simply too silly to try and make them do anything otherwise just for the sake of his paranoia.

He didn't bother with introductions, considering they were on a timer. "I’ve made a terrible mistake." His throat was tight and his eyes were already full. "I brought a woman home."

"Isn’t that a good thing?" Miri asked, arching an eyebrow with curiosity. That was a particular gesture that elicited a lot of counter transference from Severus, and Miri knew that because they had talked extensively about it. And he just sighed because he really didn’t want to open that can of worms at this particular moment, not when he was so close to falling completely apart. 

"I brought a woman home because I’m in love with her," he said, feeling like that was enough explanation, but his heart ached to admit it.

"Wow," said Miri, and she smiled in a sad way, offering condolences wordlessly. "When did this happen?" 

"Five minutes ago," Severus gasped, and he covered his face with both hands, trying to keep himself from falling into ugly, exhausted tears.

"And so clearly the *most rational* thing to do was leave her alone in your living room, so that you could call me to figure out how you can break it off with her?" 

Miri didn't need a whole lot of other details. She was perceptive, and she knew Severus well, and she seemed utterly unsurprised by all of this.

He moaned, and pulled his hair, not willing to look her in the eye (as it were, given it was video chat). "When you put it that way..." he said, feeling desperately and utterly alone.

Behind Miri, a door opened, and Murray walked in, and he smiled broadly at the sight of Severus on Miri's screen. But he didn’t say anything; he simply sat down behind Miri with an open notepad, bright eyed and eager to add a helpful contribution 

"So what is stopping you from connecting with this person?" asked Miri, thoughtfully rubbing her chin. "Is it fear of intimacy? Your worries about being... not attracted to women other than Lily?" 

"Oh no, not that," said Severus, who had forgot all about that worry in light of recent events. Instead he felt his face heat. "We have been… quite active in that respect." 

His therapists looked at each other with raised eyebrows apiece, clearly either impressed or simply not believing him. 

Severus found himself insisting, "No really, she finds me very… attractive?" 

Of course he questioned himself now that he said it, and he sighed, trying not to get in his own way. 

This sigh was echoed by Miri. "I’m so glad to hear that," she said, looking thoughtful. 

"We have been worried about you since we haven’t heard from you in a few weeks," Murray stated, looking somewhat cruelly amused at Severus' present discomfort. "Thanks for texting, at least." 

"Of course," Severus intoned, feeling guilty that he hadn't done them the courtesy of calling. "I don't leave people... hanging, as you say." 

This was starting to hint at an ongoing conversation they'd been having about Expectations he had about other people, and his own Unreasonableness associated with this. To prevent them from getting sidetracked, he added, "She and I have been... busy. We went on a vacation," he added, and felt himself smiling just the tiniest bit as he thought back over it. "I suppose you might say this is been a whirlwind romance."

"But why the crisis of faith now," asked Murray, and he stared down his nose at Severus in a way that Severus found exceptionally annoying, and very reminiscent of Albus, but he knew it was for his own good.

"Because I have asked her to move in with me," he said, "and I realize that..."

The moment the words came out of his mouth, he realized he didn't actually have a realization. He looked helplessly at his therapists, and they smiled at him hopefully, and he knew that they were not going to help him figure this out. They were not going to give him an easy way of saying the things that he didn’t want to say. And so, resentfully, he sat there in silence, gritting his teeth in annoyance and trying to figure out what earth he actually wanted to say.

Given that he was stuck, Miri did her best to summarize the situation back to him. "So," she said, "you fell in love with a girl, went to vacation with her, and now she’s sitting in your living room, and you don’t know what to do with her."

"And you ask her to move in with you," added Murray, never one to miss a detail. 

"Correct." Severus squirmed in his chair. 

"So what is it that you are feeling right now?" 

Severus gulped, hard. "I feel... stupid." he submitted, and then he warmed to the topic. This was comfortable, familiar territory - this hating himself theme. "I feel stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid-"

"=Now let’s check the facts on that," interrupted Miri, prompting him effortlessly. "I think you know that I’m just going to stop you there until you can correct that thought. It’s a maladaptive thought. So what is a more constructive thought instead?"

"The more constructive thought," Severus ground out, "is that this is uncharted territory for me, and I have no fucking clue what to do."

"There we go," said Miri, "that’s much more emotionally honest. So now we have something to work with. You feel like you’re at the edge of the precipice and like you’re about to take a a huge leap of faith." 

Severus shrugged. "I suppose so." 

"I mean, you are," said Murray hopefully. "You have just granted access to this woman to share an intimate space of your life, your home. And you’ve never had at home that you could feel proud of before, and probably if you had a home that you were *not* proud of, like Spinner's End, or your flat at Hogwarts, then you probably wouldn’t be feeling this vulnerable." 

"Perhaps," said Severus, and he sighed, feeling pain prickling in his stomach. This uncomfortable feeling suggested they were probably on the right track, and he was in a state where he didn't like what they were telling him, but he knew they were right. 

This was one of those difficult moments where he had to Tolerate the Distress and figure out a middle path, and Severus *hated* that.

"When was the last time you ever had anyone in your home anyway," asked Murray, a little smile on his face. "Have you ever had anyone come over?" 

"Not other than you two," grumbled Severus, "and certainly no one in years."

"So this is a very unique set of circumstances you’ve got yourself into," observed Murray. "This is the first time you have someone new in your home, and this is also the first time in a long while that you’re opening yourself up to emotional rejections romantically. Not to mention rejection of your mind and feelings. Severus, you have been working so hard to improve yourself, it is understandable that you would be full of anxiety about a potential rejection." 

This made Severus remember one other critical point that, for the past few minutes, had been completely out of his mind. He began to chuckle darkly, and he covered his face with his hands again. 

"It gets worse," he added, and he found himself beginning to succumb to tears. "She used to be my student." 

This clearly made the blood of his therapists run cold.

"Wow," said Murray, and then he seemed to want to say something, but then he stopped. "Just wow, Severus. That’s...that’s not so good, is it."

"No, it’s a fucking nightmare," said Severus, "and I don’t know how the fuck I got myself into this mess." 

......................

"So when you say that she was your student," Miri went on, exploring the boundaries of the situation, "it’s not like there is a romantic history between you two that precedes the modern day right?"

"Of course not," said Severus, aghast that the question even would be placed. 

"I’m sorry," Miri said, "you know I have to ask these things. I don’t ever think there was anything improper about you back when you were a teacher, nothing like that. I’m just, trying to see, was there any hint of attraction back then? As far as you remember?"

Severus, fighting feelings of betrayal, simply answered shaking his head no, never. 

"Of course not," Murray added helpfully, "your mind was so occupied with Lily, you had no room for anything else."

"That’s right," Severus breathed, feeling a little bit more at ease. He not felt so skittish with his therapists in a long time, and it frustrated him because he felt like he was back sliding in terms of trust. But they were perceptive people, and Miri seemed to try and refresh her face back to something more neutral. "I’m sorry," she said quietly, "I’m just surprised. I never thought that this is what your first real relationship would look like."

Severus snorted, feeling still close to tears but slightly less astonished and irritated. "You’re telling me," he said bitterly. "So what do I do?"

"Well," Murray ventured, "she’s an adult at this point, I gather?"

"Yes," Severus hissed, feeling bleak.

"How old?"

He thought about it. 

“Late twenties,” he said after some mental arithmetic. “Though to look at her, you’d think she was ten years older.”

“And you’re, what, almost sixty?” Miri asked.

Severus sniffed with offense. 

“Fourty-eight.” 

The pair of them sat and seemed to think about it. Then after some hesitation, Murray said, “Well, it could be worse.. you’re less than twice her age.”

“Thanks for nothing,” Severus grimaced, but as they considered all the cold hard dirty facts, there was something that relaxed in his stomach. He wasn't holding anything else back, and he noticed his sense of humor was starting to bleed through the twangs of pain. 

“When she was born, you’d have been around twenty, right?” Miri confirmed, and Severus felt his stomach somersault at the very reminder. “What has she done in the past ten years, since you left Britain?”

“She finished a graduate degree,” Severus said softly, and at this thought, he smiled. “And she got married, and that didn’t work out so well apparently.” 

*So she has a history of failure in relationships,* his vindictive side crowed. 

"So you are hardly robbing the cradle," appeased Murray, and Severus noticed the triangulation happening between the two therapists. "She is worldly, she’s got other things that she’s lived through."

"Yeah," Severus agreed, but then he frowned. "Such as: a war that I helped create."

Miri sighed, because this was definitely a well worn path of thought that she and Severus had worked on a lot. 

"Let’s put a pin in that," she said, "and come back to it another time when you’re not in crisis. In the meantime, let’s focus on what makes the most sense for you navigating this new situation. Why did you ask her to move in with you so soon?"

"It was stupid," Severus said, feeling ashamed. 

"Fuck that," Miri said irreverently, and as Severus glanced up at her, a little startled, she smiled. He smiled thinly back at her. "It was Emotion Mind, that's all. The instinct itself isn't stupid. So where did it come from, that instinct?" 

"I just feel like... I never want her to leave me," Severus confessed, feeling his heart tremble to say the words aloud. "I know that if I fuck things up with her, I will never get another chance to be happy."

"Oh that’s pretty dismal," said Miri flatly. "Severus, why would you say such a thing? you know very well that your fortune is not contingent on one thing going well, or one thing not going well."

Severus didn’t say anything in response, and he simply let the absence of words speak for him. He was immovable on the idea that his life had very limited options and chances for forgiveness, and it was very impossible for him to consider that life could change. 

This had been a major blockage point in his life for years, and it was probably the most frustrating thing that his therapists talked about behind closed doors. Severus knew that they were frustrated with him for still holding onto this belief, but even irrational as it was, he found it to be absolutely true. 

His life was one that he had built despite the efforts of so many. He'd had to fight for his right to life since childhood, and that had never stopped. Even now, well-heeled and lazy as he was, his medical conditions were so complex, and futile to fight, and yet he kept on persevering to spite all the forces that wanted him dead. 

He knew he was on borrowed time, and also knew that every moment he spent fighting for his happiness, for his life... every moment he spent on these was a moment that he knew was being taken away from some kind of afterlife-soul of his. An afterlife-soul that was being eaten away by every stolen second that he fought to live. 

But he just lusted after life too much, after everything was said and done, to want anything less than everything. He ate too much, he lusted too much, he felt too much, and he wanted too much. Everything in his life, he did to excess. And so, he knew that he was going to pay for it in sooner rather than later... so why the hell not just enjoy every last drop until all the marrow had been sucked from the bones of his life? 

He knew he had to have the best, and he had to have it now, because after this, it was over. It would all be brimstone and horror after this. This was the last chance he had her any real shot at happiness.

And so, Severus simply sat there, staring at his therapists coldly, daring them to argue with these long-held convictions. And they sat there sadly, encountering the profound sorrow of having reached the limit of another human being's willingness to believe. 

They all remained there quietly, but then there was a knock on the door. Automatically, Severus said, "Come in," but without really thinking or remembering that it was Luna wanting to come inside and see what he was up to. Then she was there, and she saw him sitting there in his computer chair, relaxed and solemn and heavy lidded. And she also saw his therapists, who were sitting and trying to come up with something worthwhile to say. 

And as she approached him, she became visible on the screen, and the therapists did their best to look nonplussed. "This is her," said Severus, simultaneously proud and wretched. He raised his hand, and took hers, and he nodded at his therapists in a cordial but definitive nod. "I think you know that we can’t go much farther than this today," said Severus, sounding strangely detached from his voice. "Thank you, both of you, and I will talk to you later." 

And with that, not saying a word, Murray and Miri turned off their monitor, leaving Severus and Luna staring at a blank teleconferencing screen.

"How much of that did you hear?" Severus asked softly, feeling tightness in his throat again. 

"Not much," said Luna, though she added, sotto voce: "But enough."

"I don’t want to rescind my offer," said Severus, feeling shaky in the voice. "It is what I want." 

"I know that it is what you want," said Luna, not needing to specify what 'it' was. She wrapped herself around him in a hesitant and gentle manner. "The question is, are you able to?" 

Severus swallowed the lump in his throat as best he could. "This is what I want. So what if it’s fast. So what." He felt like he was trying to persuade himself much more than he was trying to persuade her though.

"So what, indeed," echoed Luna, and she sighed deeply and pressed her face into his neck. "I think we both want this," she said, "but I think that you need to have a little bit more time before we make this a reality."

Severus, at this idea, felt his gut twist and knot. Because he knew that this spelled the beginning of the end. So soon he had fucked it up! He was just such a pathetic creature. He basically knew the rest of the story. She would slip away into the ether, and convince him for a moment or two that there was still a possibility ready and ripe on an orchard tree for him, and then the moment he was ready to pluck it off, he would discover that she had vanished into thin air.

He felt the frozen chill of inevitability, of regret, of his greatest fear manifesting in front of his eyes while he remained unable to control it. Luna seemed to be sturdying herself, as she sat there in his arms, for that final and definitive break. 

"For the moment," Luna said, pressing a kiss into his cheek. 

Severus waited for the hammer to drop. 

"I would very much like dinner," Luna announced, nuzzling her nose into his neck, "for I am exceedingly hungry, and it is very rude of you to leave me waiting so long for something to satisfy me." 

"But…"

This was not what he had expected, and Severus was still stuck in the existential crisis. 

"But..." 

 

As he floundered, Luna touched his nose with a single gentle finger. 

"All we are going to do tonight," she said, practical and sensible, "is have dinner, have a bit of a swim once our stomachs have settled a bit, and have a pleasant sleep." 

He listened, his ears on fire as they tried to process her words. Her meaning barely computed. 

"No decisions need to be made anytime in the next short period of time," Luna went on, "you have plenty of time to adjust, and make decisions about what you want to do." She wrapped her arms around him even tighter and held him like he was the most precious thing on earth. "I already know what I want to do, and what I want to do is: I want to spend as much time with you as I possibly can. There is no pressure on my part for you to figure this out at any point soon," she went on, "because I know that you will figure it out And that it is just a matter of time, and relief from the pressure of needing to make a decision.

"I just want to be with you," she said, and a small smile came on her lips that made her look entirely too kissable. "I want you and I’m willing to wait. I know that it will be hard for you to adjust to... whatever this is," and she gestured between the two of them, suggesting some kind of invisible rope tying them together. "This is real enough for me, for now. It doesn’t have to look like anything in particular for me to feel happy." 

"Is that really... true? Severus said, and he filled his chest with a tight breath of air. 

"I can tell how much you want me," said Luna, "but I need you to swear something very solidly."

"What is it," asked Severus, obviously hesitant to commit to any particular belief before knowing what it was.

"Just promise me that you’ll be real with me, and always tell me the truth, no matter how difficult."

"Why do you say that?" he asked, feeling somewhat admonished.

Luna sighed. "There’s too much complexity in this world for us to pretend at things that are not real," she said, unaware apparently of the irony in her saying this. She of the magical metaphorical creatures that blended reality and imagination with far too liberal a brush. "It's just insulting when someone pretends to have feelings other than those they clearly own." 

Ah, and there was the Truth of Luna, laid out for him as clear as a starlit night. Her metaphors and allegories were not lies, but simply a different language for expressing universal experiences. Ultimately, Luna didn't hear things in the form of semantic content; she processed the meaning of things immediately at a much deeper level than most ever would dare to go. 

It was profound, and Severus felt his heart beat faster in his soft chest as he realized this. Here was a woman who would not latch onto his actual (often ill-chosen) words and take them at face value - no, she had a far more powerful listening skill than that. She could sense the fear and churning emotions in him, and she knew that the right response was to sit, quietly, and let them settle on their own time. 

He had never, *ever,* felt more seen or understood. And Severus Snape nearly swooned in gratitude. Instead, he leaned into her and kissed her, trying to convey through his lips exactly how much this meant to him. 

Based on the way she reciprocated, she seemed to understand.


	8. edges of of temptations

Soon enough, Severus and Luna were out on the back porch, enjoying the quiet of an Early October summer night. The temperature was still high, around 65 F according to the thermometer on the wall next to the sliding glass doors, and the pool lights were on, and the automatic pool cleaning device was chugging along the aquamarine floor with a reassuring ticking sound.

The grill was smelling amazing, as two very sumptuous steaks curdled and hissed upon it, next to half a dozen different vegetables that were liberally spread with butter and spices.

Pasta was already done, and keeping warm in a Pyrex bowl covered in tinfoil, waiting for the final touches of the dinner to be prepared.

He poured her some wine, which was already open from flash-marinating the steaks. This was acceptable use of leftovers; he didn’t bother with using crappy wine in his cooking since getting sober. If he couldn’t drink his well-developed collection of vintages, he would eat them, bit by tasty bit. After all, if it wasn’t delicious, it had no place on his table.

Severus was wearing swim trunks that fit snugly, which was a problem because he had just bought them at the beginning of the summer. But this was the same old story with him: as had been the case for the past ten years, he only ever got bigger these days, not smaller. He was resigned to that.

He made this observation aloud to Luna, who twirled her wine in her glass and smiled at him. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes roved over him. She seemed to admire the way his stomach peeked out from underneath the edge of his too-tight T-shirt - judging by the way her eyes danced as he attempted in vain to pull said shirt further down over his panniculus. He hefted his doughy tum in an experimental fashion, watching the way her focus trained on his excess. Her expression shifted to something very sensuous indeed, and heat rose in his cheeks. 

In an automatic reflex to hide his oncoming hard-on - a vestigial reflex, no longer necessary given that his largesse occulted his member so profoundly - he turned around and attended to the grill.

He knew it was silly of him to even feel self-conscious, given how much and often she had seen him naked, and given how much she enjoyed shagging his stubby, fat-smothered cock. But it didn’t matter. 

The way she undressed him with her eyes, he felt like in ungainly teenager who was nothing but stacked ribs sewn together by tendons and very little flesh. Even though he was the complete opposite in physical form these days, he felt just as unpleasantly unattractive.

But she wanted him, and it was fascinating. He knew it was going to take a long time for him to come to terms with this. 

Luna herself looked like she also needed a new swimsuit, but Severus wasn’t complaining about the sights. Her breasts filled out the bikini and forced the breastbone straps to sink into her flesh - like a net bag cutting through rising bread dough. Her little tummy was stuffed tightly into her bottoms, but a hint of double belly spilled out between the middle. If that wasn't sumptuous enough, Severus noticed that when she half-rose to rearrange herself, she had to keep pulling up the bikini bottom, for it threatened to lose its hold upon her fleshy buttocks and overstuffed waist.

“Dinner is almost ready,” Severus said, turning his face against the gentle breeze, which came off the nearby ocean. His hair was beginning to slip out of its tight ponytail, but he’d only made it for the sake of keeping it out of his face while cooking. The long side-bangs of his unkempt locks tickled his jowls, and he ran a reflexive hand along his face to tuck them behind his ear.

Luna seemed to approve of the gesture, for she got up and wrapped herself around him while he stood at the grill, and she squeezed that sliver of naughty flesh that drooped beyond the hem of his shirt.

“It smells marvelous,” said Luna almost incomprehensibly into the soft squishiness of his back flab. Then, as he moved to turn a steak, she let go and stood back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that she stared up to the sky, her eyes wide and appreciative of the way that the night sky unfolded in front of them both. A tender and loving smile shone through her whole face.

“There is a lot less light pollution over here than there is in Los Angeles,” she observed, and she sat at the patio table in a chair. This chair was one that Severus employed for sitting breaks between rounds at the grill, and it slightly irritated him that she appropriated it so casually. No matter how beautiful she was, he was grumpy when his convenient sitting place was usurped. But he was grumpy in the way that he might be grumpy about a pet cat curling up in his chair - just a smidgen irritated, while also begrudgingly enjoying the sight. 

She tucked one arm behind her head and she leaned back in her chair, balancing precariously in a way that made Severus nervous. His well-oiled teak patio set was hardy and well-made, but it was not built for casual tipping back on its hind legs like that. Moreover, Luna was not really made for falling, and he worried that if she lost her balance, she would just shatter like china across concrete.

At his wordless warning glare, she straightened up again and looked around for a more appropriate chair for her purpose of stargazing. She identified the robust chaise lounge that Severus had purchased for a pretty penny, and she curled up upon it, oh-so-prettily. Even though she was quite broad for her petite stature, the largeness of the chair seemed to swallow her whole. That seemed to be the theme this evening, Severus thought with grim amusement. His furniture looked big on her. 

Everything in his home was built for him (or, rather, chosen for him) in terms of width and breadth, as well as supportability. And all these things in his home quite overshadowed her, in a way that highlighted to him the disparity between their sizes. It made him feel very ashamed, except for the fact that she looked so darn adorable. Where his two arse cheeks fit comfortably, she curled up both her legs, and she looked like a cat dozing in a rocking chair.

He too sat down, in the recently-vacated patio chair, and he looked up up at the stars, deep in thought. 

So many other woman would’ve been so awkward in this environment, he considered. She could be sitting at the edge of these chairs, rocking back-and-forth and running a little bit ragged with discomfort. She could make him feel like his enormity was something that she rejected, that made her uncomfortable, that made her want to change him. He could imagine one of the women from work who had caught his eye once or twice; in particular a nervous and bespectacled woman who reminded him of the librarian from Hogwarts, Irma Pince. He could imagine Pince looking quite at sea in this habitat, not able to find a place for herself in this ecosystem that catered to (and coddled) his obesity.

Whereas Luna seemed to find her own way of enjoying it, in a way that clearly required very little effort. She appeared to adapt easily to all his things that were built to accommodate him, and she found a way they could also accommodate her - without making him feel like an abnormal monster simply for the fact that they existed. There were no offhand “this is a huuuuuge chair” type exclamations, no “I could use your pants as a parachute” type speculations, and no “wow two of me could fit in here” type declarations. Nothing like company parties, and the kinds of jokes made at his expense there. 

Instead, she found coziness in his giant chairs, and embraced so warmly all these little things that he had put together to make his life a little easier, and she seemed to really love being in his space in a way that made him also love being in his space even more. 

He even flirted with dangerous thoughts. He could not help but imagine what she might look like if she got significantly larger herself, to the point where she fit his furniture as snugly and comfortably as he did. 

He dashed away the image with embarrassment and shame, because in truth he could not wish this cursed physical form on any other human being, much less a human being who he loved. At least he couldn't *really* wish it.

But the way she was watching those steaks, her pink tongue wetting her lips in an unconscious display of ravenous attention, he couldn’t help it. He wanted to feed her as well as she wanted to be fed. Her words from their first dinner together echoed in his mind, as strange and beautiful as fire dancing on the surface of water: "I like a man who isn't afraid to eat." 

He also had to admit, he liked a girl who wasn't afraid to eat. And he liked the idea of her being larger, even though he hated it too.

......................... 

Finally, Severus' tongs called him to plate the steaks. He picked the sizzling meats off the grill, put them on simple white Corelle, and arranged them with vegetables and pasta in a very appealing manner. And then, he laid a plate into Luna's waiting hands, where she could still sit and eat while reclining on the lounger.

She looked as glamorous as a movie star, the way she had one leg folded in front of her and her other outstretched, her foot dangling just a bit off the edge. Her bikini pulled tightly around her girth, revealing long tendrils of hair that spidered beyond the leg hems, and barely concealing the lump of her fleshy crotch turtle. Severus could swear that her little member twitched visibly as she looked at her food. 

Luna caught him ogling, and winked. “You’re an incredible chef,” she said, and smiled at him. She breathed out deeply, which forced her bikini bottom to slip, and the begrudging elastic waist shimmied down her stomach until her whole tum was laid bare. Its whiteness reflected back so much light that it glowed; and its roundness was so pronounced in this position, it almost was as if she were pregnant with the moon. 

There were stars in her eyes, too, almost as bright as the ones above in the sky - no, actually, Severus revised, her eyes were brighter.

Feeling a bit woozy with hunger and anticipation, Severus waved his hand. It was a way of both replying to her compliment and magically extinguishing the porch light above the grill, leaving them only illuminated by the light of the moon above, the stars, and the greenish hazy light that filtered through the pool water and chlorine.

Luna was already tucking into her food, well on her way to needing a second serving of pasta, and Severus could not help but remember how lucky he was. He watched her with wonder and admiration, counting this moment as one of the most beautiful he’d ever experienced in his life.

“Tell me what you think of the stars.”

Yes, he wanted her to slow down just a bit so that she wouldn’t make herself sick. Truth be told, he had observed a concerning pattern with her: more than once in the past two weeks, she had wolfed things down so fast that she couldn’t keep it all down. There were moments after eating that she looked a bit queasy, and not in a pleasantly overstuffed kind of way, and dashed to the bathroom. Once relieved, she'd always come back and stuff herself again, but it was a habit Severus found worrisome. Not for the least of reasons being: he knew what it was like to taste bile on his own tongue, and it always brought him back to those awful old Death Eater days where he couldn't eat for being so tense with stress. 

But with this situation, he had been experimenting, and was finding positive results. Getting her to talk while she ate was one way to help - if he was the one waxing poetic during a meal conversation, and an unlimited supply of food was available, she was sure to make herself sick. One way to protect her from herself was to limit the amount of available food, of course, though this was not to Severus' taste. Instead, he preferred the conversational burden pivot other way 'round; and this was quite successful at preventing ill effects on her digestion. 

And so, he was more than willing to accommodate her and make sure that she didn’t hurt herself through hyper-overindulgence. It wasn't exactly master's-level arithmancy; he didn't mind prompting her and then listening to her prattle while he contentedly munched through his own meal. 

Of the stars, she said, “They’re beautiful,” and as she composed further thoughts, she stared back up at them again. The tiniest hint of an Adam’s apple bobbed at her throat, normally invisible except when she raised her chin like this. Severus found it was quite adorable, if he were to be asked. 

“And consistent,” Luna added, before taking another forkful of food to her mouth. “No matter where you go in this world, the stars will be there for you. And they look practically the same wherever you go. 

“It is the wonderful thing about stars,” she extemporized. “Even when they aren’t visible to the naked eye, you know that they’re there, and that they are watching you, and that they love you.

“As opposed to the moon,” she went on, and she frowned unhappily. “The moon is appears in cycles, and while it always comes back, it is far more changeable in its sight. It doesn’t have that consistency. It is not something by which men can anchor their hearts, nor use for guidance as they navigate the seas. 

“I hate that about the moon,” she said, “and I hate that I am named for it, rather than for stars. I do not wish to be like the moon, for a girl who is like the moon is changing constantly, never able to be relied upon, never able to be appreciated for one quality consistently.”

"Hm," Severus remarked wordlessly, for his mouth was full. He nodded to make sure that she knew - she had his full attention. 

She sighed, a bit melancholy. “Ever since I became friends with Gryffindors, I began to hate the idea that no one could rely on me, and that my presence might only be one that flits in and out of the world as per my own wishes and desires.

“I wish that I could be more of an anchor for people,” Luna murmured, and she glanced up at him with wide eyes, looking as forlorn and lovely as a doe in her natural habitat, startled at the site of a hunter but not entirely sure what he was doing. 

“I wish I could be an anchor for someone,” she repeated, “something that could be used for guidance and not just a pretty piece of natural art to appreciate. The moon is a thing that shows up every once in a while on some whimsical schedule that has no relevance to the world.”

“Well,” Severus rumbled, feeling delighted at the way her words flowed over him, and he relished the sound of her voice. In contrast, his was so lugubrious. “The moon is actually quite reliable, and there are potions that certainly do rely upon the way the moon cycle occurs. Things that I cannot start brewing until its absence from the sky, and things that cannot reach full ripeness until she returns.”

“That is all very well,” Luna responded, and she looked a little cross. “But did you know, there are some potions that cannot be made anymore because the moon has changed in this cycle over the past couple of thousand years?”

“You can’t be serious,” said Severus, smiling a little bit. He was a potions master, and if there were potions that were written, he could make them; of that he was certain. 

“If you were more familiar with some of my father‘s writings,” responded Luna, “you would know that he’s done a lot of research on the topic. My mother too,” she added, and she smiled thinly, looking like Severus often felt in terms of grim appreciation. 

“My mother’s research was all about the moon, and all about the ways that the moon impacted potion making, and the ways in which potion making done according to the moon cycle has changed over at the millennium. And it was her understanding and belief that the cycle of the moon had indeed changed, since the earliest recorded potions were written.”

"Is that so," Severus said, quirking an eyebrow. "Since what early writings?" 

"Not all of them are texts that we recognize in the potions world, and that’s part of what their research was all about," said Luna, though she seemed uncomfortable with the topic. "My father was always looking into information that reached outside the realm of traditional literature. And as my father read schools from Alexandria, and Egypt - literature that we typically would think of as being a Muggle literature - he actually found evidence to suggest that some of this early writing was actually misclassified, and that many Wizarding texts were mixed up in all of those things. Probably because the librarians that brought together these things in the first place were probably wizard, in the first place." 

All of this was new information for Severus.

"I see," he said, and helpfully gave his woman a little extra pasta as a reward for finishing off her vegetables. Even though she was talking up a storm, she had mastered the skill of eating and talking at once, without making it look tremendously undignified. But she was eating at a slower pace than she otherwise would, which made him feel gratified at his efforts. And he loved it, too, to see how much boundless enthusiasm she had for the topic. Her spirit practically burst out of her body, when she was in the proper environment, and he appreciated how she pursued both of her passions of talking and eating in one syncretized effort.

"And so," Luna summarized, stabbing at the welcomed fettuccine with gusto, "these older writings, which are arguably Wizarding texts, they indicate that the cycle of the moon has changed over time. It used to be much closer, and have a much greater amount of time in the state of fullness then we observe these days. My parents were trying to synthetically replicate that necessary gravitational environment and replicate those old recipes. Attempting to synthetically create the conditions emulating the closeness of the moon at a different range." 

Severus, of course, found this all very fascinating. 

Well I would love to get in more detail, dear readers, but unfortunately my grasp of these things, as a mere Muggle historian and curator of this tale, simply is not as involved as it needs to be in order to convey this information properly. I swear that I did try, but Severus and Luna laughed at my efforts. Given the position in which I find myself, it would be imprudent to further insult my friends so with my ineptitude.

In addition, I am being told also that further explicit discussion about these matters could infringe upon copyright issues related to patents that are pending, and thus, as mandated by various legal precedents, I must not disclose anything more on the subject for public consumption.

But the larger part of this disruption in the tale is that the pair of them *are* laughing at me for my hideously underinformed attempt to summarize the technical conversation so far, and thus I will stop here. I would find their mockery rude except for the fact that before the fact, they told me they probably would poke fun at my results. So it would be quite unsporting of me to complain.

Suffice it to say, the pair of them went on discussing at length the various components of potions and moon-phases. Notably, Severus noticed that Luna would gently side-step any specific discussion about her mother's research, and what exactly it entailed. After a few probing efforts on his part to coax out some answers, he realized that he had found a weak spot in Luna's emotional armor. The girl made a very good show of being emotionally better balanced than him, but it seemed she was not invincible. 

It made him sad, actually; in some ways he really wanted her to be perfectly and totally phlegmatic; in exacting command of her feelings at all times. This was exclusively for selfish reasons: heretofore, she seemed to have endless compassion and patience for him and his own idiosyncracies, and it was uncomfortable to see where that acceptance ended - and specifically to see that this acceptance ended at herself. He shouldn't have been surprised, and in fact the old spy brain of his had been looking for weak spots ever since meeting her. But to see that this crystalline nearly-perfect woman had a fault? It was an uncomfortable reminder that he still possessed that that all-or-nothing thinking pattern for which Miri admonished him. And also a reminder that he needed to not get complacent with this woman; this was not just a crazed sex dream but a real human being, in front of him, with unspeakable amounts of pain beneath the surface of her skin. 

As he thought about it, though, his mind quieted. A real human being, in front of him. A real. Real. Human being. Not just a vision of a woman he'd used to know, who had grown to Beatrice-esque proportions in his mind over the decades and served as a moral compass during his darkest nights of the soul. 

Luna Lovegood was real, and she really wanted him, and he'd better be fucking careful about letting his feelings get all over her, or he'd fuck her up. 

............................


	9. celestial contemplations

Soon enough, the pair of them had exhausted their mutual masturbation of the minds, and they sat reveling in the simultaneous glow of having had a fruitful, enjoyable, exciting conversation, while also having been sated by remarkable, heavy, and well apportioned dinner.

"Would you like any dessert," Severus asked, though he felt a hint of redness near his cheekbones as he contemplated that idea. 

He was awfully full, but in a way where he felt cozy, roly-poly, and delightfully succored. This was the reason that he overindulged so: this wonderful blissful feeling that everything was right in the world, that his life was worth living, and that practically everything was wonderful. It was a kind of buzzed, he admitted to himself, and it was fantastic, and he loved this feeling. Particularly as he looked at the beautiful, overstuffed woman next to him, who looked just as pretty and tipsy as him.

"Not quite yet," Luna announced, and she yawned in a very delicate and refreshing manner. "I have to let things settle a bit first."

"As you wish, my dear," said Severus, and he felt a little bit of a laugh creeping up his throat. It was so strange that he could use such a turn endearment upon another human being. He had someone to call 'my dear,' and that knowledge sent him into a pleasant plummeting emotion not dissimilar to Alice in Wonderland as she fell down the rabbit hole. He was falling, but it was safe and everything was magical and gorgeous around him. 

"You need to grow some flowers here," added Luna softly, staring over the yard with a little bit of a sly smirk. "It lacks color."

"My whole life has lacked color," Severus said, leaving the words unsaid: "...until you." 

He felt a slight chill come over him, and he rolled back his shoulders, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

"This is wonderful," said Luna, stating the obvious, but he didn’t have the heart to be irritated with that. The obvious was acceptable, and quite pleasant actually. He didn’t mind feeling like there was something obvious in his life right now. He knew that he needed to rest with these little overanalyzing thoughts, because right now, it was all about feelings. That’s what he wanted, and that’s what she wanted, and everything would right in the world if he could just *stop bloody thinking.*

In pursuit of this, he joined her in staring up at the sky. They contemplated in silence their own individual sets of thoughts, until finally Luna initiated a distraction: she picked up his hand, which rested on the arm of her chaise chair, and she kissed each of his old wizened knuckles, one at a time.

"You are so beautiful," she said, looking over him with more desire than he ever could have thought possible to feel turned in his direction. "So beautiful indeed."

"I won’t argue with you," Severus said, "deluded though you are." He was more delighted than he thought her deluded, however. 

Suiting his words, he didn’t argue. All he did was watch her, carefully cataloging the sensations in his body, and his mind. 

There seems to be no off switch on this fiendish girl, who wanted him so desperately that even so entirely stuffed as she was, she was so eager to try stuffing herself even further with things of his. When one hungry mouth was full to bursting, she insisted on indulging another.

And Severus, at this damned impudence, couldn’t argue. He watched as she graduated from slow succulent kisses on his knuckles to sucking slowly at his skin, especially where the bone of his finger emerged from the top of his hand. It felt like she was trying to suck the marrow out of his bones. And it tickled a little bit, when her lips, full and wet, grazed the skin just above the less sensitive knuckles, where instead his nerve endings were splayed and hungry in the flesh of his upper hand. He was soft and tender and extremely sensitive there. Most of the time the only thing he ever felt there was his diabetic neuropathy. At this moment, his hands felt like they were quivering with emotion, like gelatin, and every time a little rough bit of teeth grazed that skin, he found himself shattering inside. 

How much of his life, up until now, had been alone? How many times had he insisted that love was never going to be on his table again? How many times had he rejected an advance before it even was offered? How many times had he cried in the night knowing that his life was full of incomprehensible, pain, and telling himself in his heart of hearts that he deserved it? How much of his life had been wasted up until this moment with feelings of bitterness and regret and self-hatred? How much beauty head he missed simply by virtue of focusing on the negative qualities in his life? 

In many ways, of course he knew these things that had limited him were reinforced by his circumstances, but it didn’t matter now, because he hated himself simply for having hated himself so much. He was nearly sick with desperation to see how far this girl would take him, how much sensual patience she would grant him, and how much tender affection he could squeeze out of this life before the inevitable tragedy of the hellish afterlife.

The calling of some bird in the pineapple guava tree broke him out of his stupor of depression. He realized that Luna was looking at him, eyes wide with worry, as she surfed his emotions, checking in to see how deeply he had lost himself within himself.

"I’m fine," he said, trying to convey as much stability as he could. "I really am." 

He thought about the two of them, and the way that they related so closely together, orbiting in tandem like a planet with another planet, Or actually,…

"What sort of celestial body do you think I am," he said softly, "to go back to that conversation we just were having?"

There is no question in Luna's eyes, and she clearly had already thought about this extensively. "Saturn," she said, plainly and without judgment.

This wasn't exactly a surprise, but he didn't have to like it. "Why," he asked, as he looked up at the sky again, trying to see if he could see the blinking light that was such a planet in the sky at that moment. He couldn’t, but he also knew that he wasn’t very good at astronomy.

"Many reasons," said Luna, and she listed them one by one.

"There is a certain largeness about you that always has seemed to be a part of you," she said, "even when you were my teacher and very physically small. Your size did not correspond to the amount of presence you had a room. 

"But I don’t think it’s something you were born with," she added conversationally, as if discussing the weather and not his psychological profile. "I think it something that you grew into, something that you had to adopt out of necessity. And so most of it is actually just gas," she said, her eyes twinkling at him, "helium and hydrogen coming together in a noxious brew of sadness and depression that have affected your whole life."

He almost withdrew his hand from her at that moment, because he was so startled by the way she saw him. Particularly he was startled by how accurate and real it was, and how well it aligned with his own view of himself. He so often put her on a pedestal that it didn't occur to him that she didn't also do the same. In truth, as he'd indicated earlier in the conversation, he thought it impossible a girl like Luna could like him without being delusional. 

How could a girl like her, who saw him so clearly, want him despite all his faults? *He* wouldn't want himself, if he were her. He had no clue what made her attracted to him. 

Luna grasped his hand more tightly, almost harshly. "You make yourself seem very big," she went on sensing that she had scared him, "as a way of keeping other people away from you. Because you know that you are full of these bad feelings, and you don’t want them just to be shared with anyone else.

"You’ve been so hurt by your own self," she elaborated softly, "you can’t bear to trust others won’t be as hurt by you as you were hurt by yourself. And perhaps with good reason you create these barriers, or rings, around you."

Her voice became heavier, as she added, "Because you have hurt people. People who never deserved to fall into the toxicity of your orbit. But they did anyway," she observed, staring at him with so much love in her eyes that he couldn't stand it, "and they suffered the consequences, and you hate yourself for having hurt them. But you can’t stop hurting them because you were just a giant ball of gas spinning endlessly around our universe, hating yourself and wishing you were dead. Anybody who dares to get close to you comes down to your level, and it gets them destroyed.

"Except," she said, even more softly, "I suppose, for me. I’m not affected by these gases, and these fumes, and these noxious feelings that you have, that drive you nearly to insanity. For some reason, I suppose I’m immune to them." 

"What does that mean, exactly?" asked Severus, feeling quite lightheaded, and like he wanted to cry.

He desperately wanted to put up barriers, to snap and rage at her for speaking such disgusting truths about him, to forcibly make her to forget those things she'd just said, to distract her by leveraging his anger. If he were a Muggle, it would have been easier - he could have branded her as a witch out of sheer terror, and then be done with it. 

Of course thinking this didn’t help his situation much. Given that he knew that she was a witch, and all. And that this magic she was using had nothing to do with actual magic, but came from some deeper well of human knowledge. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and bit his tongue. Despite himself, the image of Saturn and its many rings came to the forefront of his mind, but he forced himself to merely observe his emotions float by like one of the planet's sixty-odd moons. 

He counted them carefully, taking a deep breath as each one passed him by in his mind's eye, and then he had a bit of a brainstorm. Refusing to open his eyelids, but bravely taking a step towards greater emotional honesty, he suggested, "I think the reason you're not affected... is because *you are a moon.*"

After saying this, his eyes snapped open, and he looked at her. Luna's eyes widened, and her face brightened, and she looked incredibly happy at the prospect. 

"That's an idea," she said. "Do you know how many moons that Saturn has?"

"Around sixty," grumbled Severus, regretting this tactic somewhat. He tried to make himself smaller in his chair, not succeeding at all.

"62," corrected Luna, warming to her topic. "Saturn has 62 moons, and none of them even sneeze while in the presence of so much noxious gas."

She grinned, triumphant. 

"And back to your point about consistency," Severus added, hating the fact that he was digging himself in deeper, "to Saturn, his moons are very consistent. Because they’re in his orbit."

Luna laughed lightly. "I realize," she mused, "that there’s only one reason that we here on planet Earth think that the moon is so changing and fickle. I suppose it only seems so because of the way that we sit on this earth, looking up at her; our world is changing, not other way around."

"Precisely," said Severus. Luna seemed quite cheered up, though it seemed to be at his own expense. He didn't really mind, though. 

"Yes," Luna chattered, "the moon never changes, really, because it is the Earth that is rotating and changing and making it very difficult for the moon to keep up. She’s doing her best. It’s the Earth that is the problem, not her. It’s not her fault she’s too close that she can’t get her bearings and seem that she is only moving in tiny fractions. In viewing her, we do her a disservice, and we never see the whole picture of what she is or what she looks like. Because we are just little creatures upon the earth. 

"And Earth is quite an overpopulated place," she went on. "Whereas Saturn, it exists in a world of its own, with very few look upon it. But it has such a collection of moons, that are there to love it and care for it, and It is only because it is so far away from us on Earth that we have any association with Saturn and sadness.

"There is no reason Saturn must by definition be sad," went on Luna, entering the final triumphant conclusion of her extemporaneous lecture. "Saturn has a kind of glory that can’t be appreciated by us here on Earth, and so because it does seem to move slowly around the Earth, in its own world, in moves quite fast, and we are just too far away for us to see how well it keeps to itself, and brings its own definition of love and caring to the table." 

"I was also thinking of Saturnalia," Severus said, feeling his stomach expand and contract with relief. "God of Agriculture. Lots of feasting and celebration and all that rot." 

"Yes!" enthused Luna, and she pressed a delighted kiss upon Severus' hand. "You are so brilliant. Yes. I love it." 

Severus smiled thinly, because his ears seemed to ring with the unspoken (but deeply heard) words "*I love you.*" 

"Are you at all feeling ready for a swim?" he asked, not moving a muscle, not looking anywhere but in her eyes, not willing to break the spell. 

"Just a quick dip," Luna agreed, and she tugged at the hem of Severus' t-shirt. "You're not wearing that in, are you?" 

"Oh. Erm." He felt self-conscious, but as Luna expectantly gazed at him, he tentatively peeled off the garment. 

"There we are," Luna cooed, "There's my large and lovely man." She wrapped herself around his sweaty bare midriff the moment she spied it, and her soft breasts were sticky with heat. It was rather uncomfortable, actually, for their bare skin to touch, given how hot it'd been that day, so Severus gently disentangled his body out of her grasp. 

"Let's get in," he prompted, kissing her upon the head, and with stiff steps he plodded to the rim of the pool, grasped the rail in the shallow end, and eased himself down the steps until he was up to his waist. Even though the day had been hot, the water was cool and refreshing from the cold of nighttime, and he shivered as his flab protested the sudden onslaught of cold. 

But soon enough he was floating on his back, relishing the ridiculous buoyancy of his well-insulated body, and relaxed into the feeling of seamless weightlessness. 

The quiet of this moment was only disrupted by the crashing of Luna's body as she dived into the water, as agile and graceful as a dolphin. 

She popped up out of the water, and hiccuped cutely. "Perhaps not as ready as I thought," she confessed, and paddled over to him. "You seem to have the right idea." 

"Careful not to fall asleep," Severus said dreamily. His ears were just below the surface as he bobbed in the water, and he was noticing the total relaxation of his whole body other than his tightly packed stomach. He was both speaking from experience and also from noticing his own body's current state. 

"I won't," Luna promised, already spreading out her limbs on the surface of the water like a beautiful alabaster starfish. "And if I do, you have my permission to wake me." 

"More like, your nose full of water will wake you first," Severus chuckled, "it's not pleasant. Chlorine burns the sinuses." 

"We'll be careful," Luna agreed, and she reached out to touch his hand. He grasped it desperately, wanting to convey just how important it was that she be careful. 

Severus wanted nothing more than to protect this beautiful girl from all the horrors of the world. Including horrors that were mere annoyances, actually. Luna Lovegood, in return for loving him, would never want for comfort, and any thing that brought her displeasure, he would dispense with immediately. He would walk to the ends of the earth, large and ungainly as he was, just to prevent her from experiencing something mildly unpleasant. She deserved this, and more. And he didn't care if this was putting her on a pedestal or not.


	10. adaptations and manifestations

The bright light of morning used to make Severus shudder. His life used to be so dark and dim in every single way; vampiric; gothic. He lived in the dungeons. He crept in soundless shadows. He walked on the dark side of the moon. He cloaked himself in blackness as rich as night, and never suffered the harsh realities of daytime. 

He'd made his own music then, in that grim lightless world of his, and the only glimmer of anything lovely and bright was the memory of Lily. 

Lily, the white and shining armor that shielded his soul from the worst of his nightmares. 

But these days, ever since getting sober, he'd stopped pulling down the opaque shades over his windows. The sunlight streamed in at natural moments, sometimes harsh, usually just golden. It always made him a little sad, as he recollected how long it'd taken him to get here. 

That darkness in his life from before, it was mostly manufactured. It wasn't real. Once the clouds of chaos and stupor faded, he stared up at the clear blueness of the hemisphere and wondered what the fuck had kept him in the drudgery of his former life. 

And now here he was, embracing a girl - nay, a woman - who he'd never really seen before. Not really seen in the real way. 

Perhaps his life was more banal, now. It certainly felt that way, he thought to himself as he cradled this gentle young woman in his arms. He wore button-down collared shirts now. And khakis. *Khakis.* And he scarce could remember the last time he'd worn black. Sure he had a couple of ties and a jacket and some trousers, but they generally didn't all go together in one monochrome representation of his heart anymore. 

And sometimes he wore - to his great astonishment whenever he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror - *Hawaiian patterned shirts.* 

Granted, this had much more to do with the fact that these shirts came in the obscenely large sizes he required, and less to do with his own aesthetic preferences. But the old Severus wouldn't have been caught dead in anything more unconventional than plaid, and even *that* was out of character. Now, he actually liked the way a salmon-pink shirt splashed with neon-green palm fronds distracted from his graying temples, even at the risk of making his face look even more pink and hypertensive. 

Maybe life was more plain, less romantic than it used to be. But Severus couldn't be arsed to want that old life anymore whatsoever. 

He would give up a thousand unreachable Lily Evanses to make sure that this life with Luna went on forever. 

........................ 

After his initial freakout on her first night at his house, the couple settled into a comfortable routine. It only became more comfortable as time went on, to Severus' enormous relief and satisfaction. The burden on his shoulders lightened significantly as he adapted to the gentle presence of the wonderful creature in his midst. 

He would toddle off to work, leaving her at the kitchen table surrounded by the detritus of a hearty breakfast meal he'd prepared. She grumpily sipped coffee and nibbled at sausage as he pressed a kiss upon her tousled bed-head. 

The day passed uneventfully, with the typical comings and goings of coworkers, punctuated by discussions of technicalities to which Severus tersely responded. All the while feeling his heart lighten simply at the idea of coming home to Luna. 

Well, most days anyway. Sometimes his anxiety made his stomach jump in his throat as he questioned the reality of his life. She couldn't really be interested in him, not really. It was all just a big long con and he was the victim of his own bleeding heart. 

But then he'd get home, and find Luna engaged in the task of installing a hanging bar from the ceiling so she could read upside-down, hanging like a strange light-haired bat. Or painting magical murals on the walls, depicting some fairy tale or other that caught her fancy. Or training a coyote to howl along to Severus' Grateful Dead vinyls. 

And even if he was infuriated by the way she was wrecking the house, he was also delighted that she was making it her own home, too. This knowledge only came after a few aggravated encounters and frustrated bleatings at his therapists. But ultimately he did find a way to accept Luna's quirks in stride, after much hand-wringing on his part: they devised an agreement that any permanent changes in terms of decor - constructive, destructive or otherwise - must be discussed at least a day in advance of actualizing them, for ninety percent of the house. For that remaining ten percent, Luna was given free reign over what came to be called 'the sewing room,' and its adjoining bathroom. Though as far as Severus knew, Luna never sewed anything in there at all. He wasn't even entirely sure if she knew *how* to sew. But the name stuck. 

Honestly as time went on, the space looked much more like the Room of Requirement than anything else, but as long as the rest of the house was respected and liveable, Severus conceded the firetrap. 

Anyway, their nights together were often starry, frequently spent in the pool or jacuzzi tub, and regularly involved quite a bit of bedroom-based athletics. On nights that were colder, they still sat out of doors, eating dinner on the patio and curling around a cozy firepit. Once the soles of Luna's shoes melted because they fell asleep there, their nighttime shadows becoming living snores while gazing into the sky. 

And then, all too suddenly, it was Christmastime. 

Now, Yuletide in southern California was an egregious oxymoron, in Severus' opinion. He couldn't remember a single Christmas here where the sun hadn't been shining every morning, every evening, every day.

Severus had tried very hard to forget Christmas existed. Unfortunately for him, the lab was always closed on the holiday, so he would be trapped at home like an agitated bear. Admittedly most years he'd just take some benadryl and knock himself out all day, to keep him from thinking too much. 

But this year was different because Luna was there. And it seemed that Luna *adored* Christmas. 

This Christmas was the first in his memory where it wasn't a sunny day. The temperature was in the mid-fifties and the sky was full of heavy rainclouds, but they parted sporadically to permit the passage of sunshine. San Diego went through periods flooded with light, and then heaven's shutters would suddenly close and they'd be back in the grey dimness of a misty sky. 

There was a wreath of holly and roses on the door, hand-made by Luna on the twenty-first. A gingerbread house was built on the twenty-second, though it wasn't actually a house but a series of lumpy scattered chunks. Luna said it was a model of some ancient pagan ritual circle. Severus suspected this was just a lie meant to cover-up the fact that she'd tried and failed to make an icing that properly would bind the pieces together. (Not that he minded her mess, or the mopping up of it - once his tongue got to work, all that rich silky buttercream cleaned up quite nicely. Though his unhappy digestion didn't agree with his methods.) There was a fir tree in the living room, decorated in the old-fashioned way with dried cranberry garlands, spiced sugarplums, and balls of popcorn. There even were stockings on the mantel: one for Luna, one for Severus, and one for the scaled raccaslider, whose name (Severus had learned) was Penny. 

Luna was looking darling and plump in her red sweater-dress, belted around her middle and with shearling trim on the sleeves and collar. Severus was grateful she hadn't bought him some kind of St. Nicholas outfit; instead she'd bought him a brand new turtleneck sweater in a very Slytherin dark green, for which he was eternally grateful. 

Her university faculty Christmas party was today, the twenty-third, and Severus had agreed to attend. Begrudgingly, but only a little so. He couldn't really say no to this enchanting creature with full, plump lips and wide, crystal-blue eyes, and a heart that welcomed him so readily. 

Luna bustled around, seeming like a slightly-dissociated Molly Weasley. Severus watched with a little smirk as she flustered over some figgy pudding, flour spilled all down her front and a generous smudge of batter on her chin. 

"Come here," Severus purred once the pudding was in to boil, and he curled himself around her as she set the timer. And his tongue peeked out to lick up that wayward pudding batter.

He couldn't remember having had a more delightful holiday season. Ever, in his whole damn life. 

Luna, like a squirming kitten, unwound herself from Severus' arms, pressing a deceptive kiss on his cheek as she wiggled away. It was just as well, Severus realized as she laughed and shone him a charming smile. He hoped she hadn't felt the hardness of a ringbox in his breastbone pocket. She probably hadn't - after all, there was some advantage to being as large as him, in the sense that the greater the surface area, the less likely it was she'd encountered that particular lump in their brief embrace. Couple this fact with the pleasant thickness of the sweater, and he probably was in the clear. 

Still, to be safe, he patted that special lump and felt content that it was secure, unnoticed, and lost against the vastness of his body. 

Now to find the right moment. Probably not today, but he didn't plan to take any chances. 

"Help me with my hair?" Luna asked, backing up her sumptuous arse against his crotch. A blue satin ribbon dangled, adrift in her tresses where it had come out. Severus' fingers softly parted the waterfall of golden sunshine and identified the weak place in her engineering. Then, with his pudgy but adept hands, he began to gather her locks into a single plait. His fingers pressed along the soft skin of her forehead and brought back some flyaways, some of which artfully slipped again to frame her face. 

Soon he tied it all into a bow, and he smiled as he finished, feeling pleased and a little giddy as he contemplated this new life of his. 

He had a woman. He had a woman who he wanted to permanently invite into his life. He, Severus Snape, was not alone anymore. 

Luna looked up and met his eyes, and her own were soulful and searching. 

"You've got a secret," she observed, just a little oblique.

"Maybe," he said, and as a distraction he grasped a gingerbread biscuit left over from the day before. And he stuffed it in his mouth, an innocent defense against any probing questions. 

But Luna wasn't really the type to probe, even if he wasn't thusly occupied; she had a kind of saintly patience that amazed him. She just smiled and agreed, "That sounds fine." 

............................. 

The party was quite well attended, all things considered. All Luna's usual suspects were there; all the people she talked about during their nighttime conversations. There was Kitty the ecological magic department chair, as vanishingly small and ancient as Luna had suggested. There was Gertrude the philosophy of scientific magic professor, wearing climate-inappropriate tweed and cheerfully going on about her horses. Reynaldo, a famous dark wizard known for his studies on geckos. Not to mention Steven Scamander, cousin to Rolf, who laughed a little too awkwardly at everything Luna said. 

Luna herself was splendiferous in her holiday regalia; she wore a silver diadem reminiscent of Rowena Ravenclaw's, and she carried herself with a stately beauty unmatched by any of her coworkers. 

Severus had never felt so proud to be someone's date in all his history. His heart was practically bursting with fierce, hot affection for his lady. And the way the other men kept glancing at her delightful comely behind - well, Severus felt pretty chuffed about that, too. He knew it wasn't very progressive of him, but he liked thinking about the fact that *that was his cute little arse* and none of these other blokes could ever get near it. 

And when she glanced at him, catching his eye, she simply grinned at him, knowing *exactly* what he was thinking. And loving it. 

Soon enough, dinner was served, buffet-style. Severus bounced on the soles of his feet, considering whether to risk looking like a big fat glutton and join the food line too early. In the end, he was saved this disgrace because he saw Luna grab two plates, and cast him a reassuring smile. 

She knew how to take care of her man. So, to ease his aching limbs, he settled into a chair for a long winter's binge.

Luna looked a little excited when she came around to join him at the table, to the point that he almost wondered if she wanted to drag him into the bathroom and shag him senseless against the wall. 

"I'm not much for pudding," he confessed as he looked at his plate. There was an entire pudding there, sticky and toffee and sexily shining with syrup and glaze. But truth be told, he was *not* much a fan at all, having some painful childhood memories associated with the food. 

"Oh," Luna said, and looked a little put out. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." 

There seemed to be something much more significant at stake here, though, and Severus quickly amended, "But for yours, my dear, I'll happily make an exception." So saying, he took a spoon and sank it into the spongey cake. 

There was a dull clang as his utinsil hit something. At first, he assumed it was the plate, but then he realized that he was only partway through the victual. 

"What the..." 

He gently teased apart the doughy substance and then quizzically furrowed his brow. There seemed to be something metal in the sweet. 

"Did you lose an earring?" he asked, glancing up to Luna and looking to see if one earlobe seemed unusually bare. So saying, he pulled the thing out of the cake, and then realized to his surprise that it wasn't an earring at all. 

"Dammit woman," he cursed under his breath, though his heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that he was beginning to feel faint. "Dammit." 

He looked at his lovely lady, who was laughing nervously, a sign of extreme anxiety on her part. It took a lot to break her unendingly positive affect. 

No. He was not so much a coward that he would let his woman do the difficult thing he'd been meaning to do himself. 

Before she could say anything, his fingers slipped into his shirt pocket, and he grasped that little velvet box. Then, with trembling fingers, he removed it from his breast, and then shakily eased himself up out of his chair, and onto one knee in the traditional fashion. 

"Luna," he breathed, feeling terror creeping out of every pore in his body, "Would you be so kind as to do me the honor?" 

He didn't have to say anything more, because Luna was crying and draping herself over him in tears of joy, or frustration, or something in between. "Yes, Severus," she cried, and he didn't even have the heart to correct her use of his given name rather than his cover-up name. "Of course I will. Of course." 

And so to the polite applause of Luna's coworkers, the two of them kissed tenderly and passionately beneath the mistletoe. 

"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pleaseeeeeeee reviewwwwwwwwwwww 
> 
> i am the needy ghost of christmas in may and i need lovessssss okkkkkkkkk 
> 
> while my stories are my babiessssssss i still need people to tell me how wonderful i am on a regular basis to keep up my supply of christmas jams 
> 
> pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee reviewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww it's good for youuuuuuuuuuuuuu


	11. celebrations and felicitations

The wedding was a quiet, low-budget affair, functionally of the do-it-yourself variety. The ceremony was to take place on the beach underneath a trellis that Luna had decorated with assorted flowers and sweets. Seagulls plucked at these throughout the ceremony, squabbling overhead over a choice bit of gingerbread, but the crowd was small enough that this elicited more laughter than concern. 

Severus and Luna had kept the affair simple, for after all they didn't have many close friends with whom to share their good fortune. They invited only the smallest, most intimate group of friends and coworkers. Accordingly, the couple also dispensed with most of the traditions, including groomsmen and bridesmaids, instead simply asking Luna's department chair to officiate the ceremony. 

The very old and frail which was beaming from ear to ear as she walked the couple through their vows, and Severus was reminded of Minerva McGonagall. Some part of him wished that he had broken his self-declared vow of anonymity in order to invite her there; she'd been the only really maternal figure in his life, after all. But his larger part thought it too important keep his past life and his present life separate. Despite everything, he knew that Minerva would never approve of his marrying a former student; in his mind, he was fairly certain that she would in fact prefer that he remain celibate rather than find happiness in this way.

Luna herself might have invited all sorts of people from England as well, but she also seemed reluctant to advertise the new order of things back home. When he'd prompted her with the question, she'd just smiled and said that everyone she needed was right here, with her. 

At the time it was sweet, but even in the moment, he wondered if she might be ashamed of him. 

Severus could not help but feel like she might be; it certainly didn't sit right with him that he was remembered in England as a Death Eater: a name synonymous with a thousand unspeakable acts and crimes against humanity. Luna's marriage to him might, of course, be seen as condoning such behavior if people learned about it. 

But she never said anything to support this fear, and as his therapists reminded him: without evidence, he should not burden himself with this kind of conclusion.

Nevertheless, being the stubborn old fool that he was, he felt himself believing in her shame, in his heart of hearts. And he could not argue against such a feeling, for he himself was ashamed of the way people remembered him in England as well. 

But today, all these feelings needed to go deep underwater, and he sent them to the bottom of his soul's water well, metaphorically tying stones to them and dropping them into the stillness. He couldn't even even hear them thud at the bottom, because chances were that there was no bottom.

The way Luna's eyes shone at him in this moment, with such love and adoration and whimsy, he couldn't help but swallow his self-hatred and try desperately to deserve her. 

..............................

Severus did feel pretty elegant,all things considered. He had lost a little weight, though it didn’t seem to have a visual impact on his figure. He just noticed there was a little bit more spring in his step, which correlated positively with the scale reporting some progress.

According to Lucas at Nordstrom, though, he was fatter than ever, particularly around the middle, and Severus attributed this to the weight loss, in truth. He might have lost some of the fat that had grown and crested on the top of his stomach, and thus he became flabby further down the waist where the fat cells shifted and settled according to gravity. Like a balloon deflating, losing helium, all of his mass was shifting downward, making him appear and measure much wider in circumference, even though he had lost over a stone's worth of weight.

Luna said he was even more snugglable than usual, and thus he was completely pleased with this turn of events. It seemed the best of both worlds, aside from Lucas' dramatic sighing with disapproval. (Severus was sad though unsurprised to see that his suspicions regarding the other man's crush were completely off, once the crust of desperation was out of his eyes). 

Luna herself was really continuing an upward trend in terms of her numbers though, which made Severus selfishly very pleased. Almost all her clothes that she owned when she met him six months ago had been discarded on the floor of the closet in her sewing room, because she couldn’t fit in them anymore. 

He knew this for a fact: once in a while she would put them on to get a rise out of him, anytime she was particularly horny. Watching her walk around the house with her beautiful arse cheeks peeking out from a frock that no longer served as a proper dress because she had filled out too much... it made Severus ache just to think about it. She exploited this mercilessly, wearing dresses that had buttons running up and down the front, all of which were barely holding together the stretched and overtaxed fabric. Her appetite sometimes outdid even his, and he could watch her eat for hours.

Which, happily for them both, was a favorite pastime of theirs. They'd taken to ridiculous day-long binges on weekends, where they'd start the morning at a pancake shop to quaff their fill of sweet American breakfast cakes, and then mosey along to a mall for a bit of lazy shopping and abundant food-court snacking. It was really so very clever of mall designers, Severus thought, to include so many shops across the entire entire place - if one's stomach rumbled whilst buying pretty soaps or getting a haircut, it was quite simple to locate a convenient source of nourishment. Indeed, malls seemed like the most perfect places to the obese Severus, particularly the ones that housed Macy's and Nordstrom and Nieman Marcus and had elegant piano music sounding throughout the marble floored halls. 

He would hand over his wallet to his adorable plump lady; he'd rest his arse on a bench, get out a book, and allow her to shop, periodically bringing him things to eat (ice cream, salted pretzels, frozen coffees, and so forth) so that he was well occupied and never hungry or bored. And then if they had the time and interest, they might squeeze into a movie theater and enjoy a film. If they had bothered to be in Los Angeles, it might actually be a good foreign film in a small subdued art house, though it took some trial and error to find such cinemas with accommodating chairs. 

Either way, dinner often entailed treating themselves to a quiet steakhouse of exorbitant prices that made Severus cringe, even though he could afford it. And then, bloated and exceedingly happy, the couple would escape home to make disgusting, exhausted, overstuffed love, relishing the sight and feel of each others' well-rounded tums. 

And, well, while Severus was strangely losing a bit of weight, Luna was quickly catching up to him in terms of proportions. Her body was much more petite, but that just meant that every pound was proportionally more significant on her than it was on him. Anytime she gained ten pounds, it looked to be about the same as if he gained a full stone. It was a very gratifying thing to notice, and he loved the way she filled his arms more and more every day. He wanted her to be his forever and that’s why they were getting married in the first place.

She weighed close to three hundred pounds, up by an astounding forty from October to June, and the plumpness made her wobble splendidly across her whole body. The wedding dress she'd chosen was comfortably small on her, though it was measured a mere three weeks ago and then allowed a little room for her inevitable plumpening. Her breasts were so full and lovely, quite proper melons at this point, and Severus wanted nothing more than to suckle upon them in endless tribute to their beauty and grandeur. Her chin had filled out finally, no longer hinting at but flaunting its succulent second fold. Her stomach was large and jellylike, unmistakably fat at this point, and she had to suck in her breath to lean over and tie her shoes. 

And when she did so, her arse flared in such a way that made Severus' heart stop, for it seemed to invite the gaze of every man in the vicinity - some for gawking, and others for jaw-dropping admiration. Because Severus had never seen such a perfect large arse before - so well formed it might have been plucked from a Reubens painting. Symmetrical, wide, and bountiful, so large it forced the rest of her body to pick up extra folds at the corners because it demanded such unfettered expanse. 

Not that he wasn't thrilled by its sight right now, in this moment; instead he cupped her thick, perfectly soft cheek and let a single finger twine itself around a lost tendril of hair that thwarted the half-tonne of hairpins in Luna's locks. And as he was prompted to promise himself to her, every cell in his body tensed up, waiting for the inevitable forthcoming rejection.

And as she answered his 'I do,' his entire body breathed out relief. 

Finally, someone in this world belonged to him. The gods had, at long last, decided he was decent enough a human being that he deserved happiness. 

As he was instructed to kiss his bride, he felt a little bit faint, but she saved him. He felt the strength of her embrace as she initiated the kiss instead, leaning into him with plump, moist lips that sucked and teased him. 

The shudder of his desire, he felt, was palpable to the entire assembly, particularly given how his body rippled with the sensation. But for the moment, he didn't care - and if Luna had at that moment demanded he strip naked in front of his colleagues and hers, and deflower her there on the sandy beach - so help him, he would have done it. 

.............................

The reception took place at a restaurant walking distance from the beach. The procession of people marched up to the restaurant, with Severus and Luna setting the pace in the front. And over Severus' shoulder came a familiar voice. 

"You’re not using your cane anymore," said Dr. Casablanca, and he gave what seemed to be a bitter smile.

"You’re right," said Severus, feeling a little grumpy because this walk was a little longer then was strictly comfortable for him, particularly while he was wearing a nice suit. He felt the sweat pooling at his pits and he hoped desperately it wasn't bleeding through his jacket yet. 

"Congratulations, on that," said Dr. Casablanca, and he added, "I also haven’t seen you for a while." 

"Only six months," said Severus, and added, "I saw you in December last."

"Yes," said the doctor, and he looked a little weary. "And I take it all the medication seems to be in order."

"Oh, certainly," said Severus, feeling a bit on the spot. He was trying desperately not to wheeze as he walked, a task made significantly more difficult by trying to answer the doctor's questions. 

"And your gait is good," the doctor observed, making Severus feel even more self-conscious. "All in all, a lot of improvement from you, Severus. More improvement than we've seen in the past several years of regular monthly visits, eh?" 

"Yeah," Severus said, and he felt a tight squeeze on his hand from Luna, who seemed to know that there was something going on, but she wasn’t interested in intervening.

"I’m very glad to see you this much improved," said the doctor, "I admit I have never seen anything like it. A great deal of congratulations to you, my friend." 

The company stopped, for they were at the front of the restaurant, and a waiter was holding the door open for the party. As they entered the much-relished air conditioned restaurant, Severus felt a bit of sting in his eyes as he realized, from the other man's perspective, what the doctor was seeing. 

Servers had been living his own life, but the doctor had not seen him since before the couple's engagement. Had not seen how absurdly happy Severus had been for the past six months.

It really made Severus realize to what extent his life really had improved. It was, sometimes, a struggle to remember what it had been like before; Severus just felt like a completely different person. Had he really been such an idiot to think so little of himself? He had been so absolutely unhappy, and now here he was, and he had been seduced into a completely different life, one that was fundamentally joyous. It made him a little bit sick to think about the way his life had been before. It just seemed so different.

Now, here he was, standing tall and self-assured, walking hand-in-hand with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen - Lily Evans included. His former life was just a distant memory, a nightmare from which he has only recently awoken, and every time he was dragged back to the memory of it, he appreciated all the more deeply the good fortune that had befallen him.

And Luna, her face so fresh and pretty, she made him feel so special. She made him feel so wanted. And here she was, declaring that she wanted him for as long as he wanted her. It was a miracle that he ever managed to escape the hell of his former life. It was even more of a miracle that he had found something this beautiful, nurturing, and healing to inspire new life in his veins.

"Thank you. Honestly, I have never felt better," Severus said, and it was true. 

.................

Later, he and the doctor would do some tests and see that a lot of that stupid toxin damage was slowly repairing itself, his organs functioning increasingly better and better, his body reversing the state of paralysis and shut-down that had plagued it since 10 years past. 

It seemed that love was greater medicine then all the worlds best potions, off-label medications, and innovative medical machinations. It was almost spooky how effective it was. 

But it wasn't just any love, Severus knew. Luna had a quality of love that surpassed even his own wildest imagination. And for some unknown reason, that love was directed like a beacon upon him, and he was reaping the benefits in every conceivable way.


	12. epilogue

Epilogue

A year later, they were sitting in Dr. Casablanca‘s office, both of their eyes alight and shining.

"It’s not uncommon as you might think," said Dr. Casablanca, trying to seem clinical but unable to mask his pride, "for someone without a uterus to conceive. The magical community is rife with examples." 

"I can’t believe it," said Luna, her voice soft and her plump lips slightly ajar. Both her hands rested upon her distended, pregnant stomach, and Severus' hand was there too, and both of them were as giddy as school children.

"It’s a miracle of magic," said the doctor, looking a bit smug. He seemed to have gotten over his jealousy of Severus once he learned about Luna's particular sexual organ configuration at the beginning of Luna's routine check up this morning. "Sometimes, when you want it enough, the body can create space for procreation where none existed before." 

"The question is," Severus asked, ever the practical one, "what would labor entail, exactly?"

"It depends," said the doctor, shaking his head. "I confess that while I’ve never seen this before, there are documented instances in modern magical medicine of different orchestrations. Sometimes the child might apparate itself out of the body, or it might take matters into its own hands and claw its way out like Athena." 

This rendered the happy couple horrified and stunned, so the doctor was quick to reassured them, "Aside from the cases of those anecdotes, usually it’s a Cesarian section." 

"How strange and beautiful," Luna said, her smile returning, and there were tears in her eyes. "I never would’ve guessed this could happen. In all my studies, I’ve never seen anything like this. And I’ve seen plenty of strange things," she added with the prettiest little wink at Severus, "plenty indeed."

"Well," said the doctor, "your body knows you’re a witch, and even if certain features of it don’t align with what traditionally looks like a witch, the truth is that if you discontinue taking your estrogen potions tomorrow, your body probably would pick up the slack and keep on manufacturing it in order to maintain the level at which you’ve become accustomed. This is also not unprecedented amongst magical women," he added with a smile. "Though usually this feature only activates in women who post menopausal. Clearly not a problem for you," he added, "but the fact remains: your body knows what it is supposed to do, and it has the magical resources to correct itself." 

"And so we are to have a child," Severus said, shaking his head. "A baby." 

"In less than two months, if I'm correct," added the doctor, grimacing at Luna's large belly. "You'll be needing a midwife posthaste, that's for sure." 

 

…… 

"Severus," Luna asked, once they were back in the car. "Are you ready to be a father?"

"No fucking way," said Severus, but there was a brightness in his voice that conveyed his excitement. "I didn’t think this was possible, much less actually going to happen. I've never wanted to be a father. Never liked mine, after all, and never thought I'd be a good one. As a result, I’ve always been so careful, I never thought I would ever knock a girl up - particularly a girl who I only ever fucked in the arse."

The pair of them chuckled together, because the truth was, they had fucked each other basically everywhere else on each other‘s bodies besides. The wonderful thing about their mutual obesity was the variety of options there were for phallic stimulation: rippling faults of largeness made for very satisfying tactile and sensual experiences.

"Well," said Luna, "according to the doctor, we’re too far along to take any adverse actions against it." 

Severus looked shocked at the very thought. "Don’t you dare even think such a thing," he said with a snarl. "You, woman, are seven months pregnant with my child, and don’t you dare contemplate anything of the sort. If wanting it so much is what got us into this mess, then your body clearly is very sensitive to your every thought and mood." 

Luna, looking not the least bit anxious, simply rubbed her stomach. Her hand had not left the large, protruding presence of her belly, and chances were that if Severus ever wanted to touch that hand again, he would have to detach it with the aid of some kind of lever.

"I think we are too far along to even have any kind of deleterious effect on the little one," Luna said comfortably, and she took Severus' hand off the steering wheel and brought it to her lips. "I can’t believe this is happening, but I am so very glad that it’s yours."

"It’s not like the child has won the genetic lottery," Severus grumbled, "but if you're happy, I'm happy." And with a gentle squeeze, he took his hand back and rested it on Luna stomach, hoping to feel the baby's kicking. "And if I'm quite honest, it probably took both of us wanting this child to conceive it. I just didn't realize how much I wanted it." 

He shook his head. "Your talking about wanting a child, as you've been doing in the wee hours of the night... I suppose it made me feel like I wanted it, too. If for no other reason than that you could see that particular dream fulfilled," he muttered, feeling ashamed. He'd wanted this child, and actually wanted it into existence. It was so strange but so typical of magic to make something like this unexpected miracle. Now his wish had been granted, though now it meant he had to review a lot of very uncomfortable feelings about himself. 

"Well at least now we know what that funny little feeling is," Luna said with a bit of a laugh, "and that it isn’t the precursor of Justin Farley syndrome." 

"You know that isn’t a real thing, right," Severus said, a little bit of a smirk on his face. As usual when they had disagreements about the nature of particular things that were arguably real or not real, Luna didn’t say anything in response, but she did lean her head against Severus' shoulder. It was an unspoken truce. 

"At least now we know," Luna observed again, "it is a baby." She sighed. "All this from a routine check-up. Severus, you could have told me this would be so exciting." 

"Trust me," Severus said, and chuckled lowly, "if I'd had any idea, you'd have been seen at least seven times by now." 

"What nonsense," Luna responded lightly. "I don't need a thing from a doctor. As you see, I'm *exceptionally* well nourished. I expect this child is likely to keep inside for a good while longer til he's good and ready to come out." 

"It's a he, you think," Severus murmured, feeling a little flutter in his heart despite himself. He really shouldn't care, but it made the whole thing seem so much more damn *real* to think of it as a little boy in Luna's tummy rather than just a genderless blob. 

She just nodded. "Even if its organs don't quite line up with what we'd expect for a boy, I know it's a boy, just like my mother knew I was a girl even though I came out looking a bit different than she expected." 

The smile on Severus' face was unable to be wiped away. "I suppose a mother must know," he said, feeling like the universe had just opened up to him - full of mystery and delight. He did his best to shove away any residual thoughts about his own parents and their upbringing of him, because he *knew* none of that was going to help right now. 

Luna seemed to feel something tugging at him, because she echoed his thoughts with a sigh. "I suppose this means I will have to clean up the sewing room," she said, sounding quite defeated. 

This was such a trivial matter that Severus had scarcely considered it. "Oh, you mean for a nursery? Never you mind that, my dear - there will always be room for your artistic pursuits. If you would needed an entire house of space for your projects, I could afford it. Let me handle that kind of detail, don’t trouble your pretty head about it." 

"Well thank you my dear," said his lovely companion, as if he had simply proposed that they go and get dinner from her favorite restaurant. "And so," she added, with a happy smile creeping once more into her voice, "Once we get to In-N-Out, I have half a mind to request one of those absurdly large burgers that people on the Internet say the restaurant's willing to do." 

"What," Severus asked, feeling the blood rush massively to his cock, "your standard of three double-doubles won't be enough for you?"

"Well," said Luna in a mock confession, "as it happens, I am eating for two, so I have got to be a little bit more generous." 

"That can be arranged," Severus drawled, and he felt Luna's hand on his thigh eagerly crawling into his crotch region to feel the way his member twitched at the very idea of her eating more than her usual appetite required. She wasn’t disappointed, because he was getting very hard, very fast. 

"So," Luna said. Her voice was a little bit hoarse, revealing how hot and bothered she was. "When’s the last time we fucked in a park because we couldn’t get home in time?" 

"I don’t know," replied Severus, turning on the signal blinker as they approached a turn off, "let’s make it today." 

…………  
Ten years later, Severus rolled his eyes as Emmett, their son, threw his school books on the floor.

"Look," said Severus, "it isn’t my fault that they don’t teach calculus where I went to school growing up. I can’t help you with this, no matter how much you demand it. If you need help, you need to ask your teacher. It’s simple as that."

"But it’s hard," Emmett whined, crossing his arms and looking very cross indeed. "It’s not fair, I don’t want to have to wait until tomorrow and get a bad grade because I didn’t finish this at home." 

"Honey," Luna said, as she was sitting at the computer writing some paper, "that’s no excuse. We know very well that you are three chapters ahead of everyone else is in the class, and it's high school level maths for Merlin's sake. You will not get a bad grade if you wait to complete this homework until you have some help, really." 

"Fine!" Emmett scowled, throwing up his hands and stomping away from the table. Severus heard the boy mumbling under his breath as he stormed away, something about his parents being idiots.

"Don’t forget," Severus called after the boy, "I want to see your hair-raising potion tomorrow morning before school." 

This request was met with silence, and Severus felt his face tense up with exasperation.

Fortunately, Luna's sing-song voice rose, unendingly patient: "Did you hear your father?" 

"Yeah," Emmett called back, and this was followed by an accompanying crash that Severus suspected was the boy's brewing kit. "I'm out of rat tails, dad." 

The two adults shared a look, and Severus frowned, putting a hand to his face.

"Get some from the basement," he bellowed, the frustration barely controlled. The parents heard the wayward pit-pat of the boy running in the very opposite direction of the basement. 

"That’s *our* kid, right?" he asked, his voice low and rumbling.

"Don’t worry," Luna said, affectionately, "he’s just getting closer and closer to the strange teenage years. Perhaps he’s hitting puberty early."

"Just our luck," Severus mumbled, shaking his head and standing from the table.

The years has softened him, in more ways than one. He was even rounder than he had been when he met Luna for the first time in California all those years ago, and Luna was similarly rotund. They were stark contrast to their boy, who looked like a young Severus, with a bean pole physique that was all edges and no softness at all. His hair was the only visible trait inherited from his mother, and it was long and wild and golden, very much the picture of Xenophilius.

"At least he’s moved on to spurning our intelligence," Luna added with a bit of a long suffering smile, "and stopped being hung up on physical appearances." 

"Yeah well," Severus protested, "That's worse in my opinion. I’m a lot more sensitive about my mind then I am my body. Particularly as I feel increasingly cotton headed." 

"More like sponge-cake headed," agreed Luna. She giggled in protest as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, but she turned her head up and allowed him access to her lips for a kiss.

"If my mind's turned to sponge-cake, it's only because it's so full of you and your sweetness," Severus teased, and he cradled her gently against his large tum. She sighed and relaxed into him, and gently rubbed his hand where it held her shoulder. 

Their sex life waxed and waned, these days, mostly due to situational reasons than to anything else, for Emmett made things awkward at times. Their life together was not as awkward as many other couples' though, because at least Emmett went to school. 

Severus had retired from active working at the lab, and instead puttered around in the basement he had built for potionneering. Luna spent at least a couple days a week working from home, during which time they successfully made time for each other. It wasn’t the same as when they were newlyweds of course, but the times they had together were long and loving and very satisfying, even if a bit routine.

Granted, not like anything with Luna was strictly routine, what with her endless creativity and curiosity. If there were innovations that could be made, she was the one to make them. Those Severus did his fair share to keep things fresh as well.

"How did we end up with such a brilliant child?" Severus rhetoricized, shaking his head and patting Luna's shoulder. 

"Well," Luna said with a laugh, "can you imagine us siring a dullard?" 

"Not really," Severus answered, and he chuckled at the thought. "I would die of shame."

"No you wouldn’t," said Luna with a settled firm smile, "you have me. I wouldn’t let you." 

"Nor I you," Severus responded. He hugged her tenderly, pressing her shoulders into the vastness of his stomach, holding her there tight.

For a few moments they relaxed there together, enjoying the sensation of breathing together. Then, in a moment, Luna groaned: "My love, my light, my valentine - I have a deadline." 

"When?" Severus asked, urgency in his voice. He pressed himself against her, hoping she could feel the need presenting itself hungrily into her flesh. 

"Midnight," she confessed, allowing herself to be swept even tighter into Severus' arms.

"You’ve got six hours," said Severus, "let me claim one, and then I will let you have peace for the rest of the night." 

"Oh you spoil me, my love," said Luna, just the slightest bit sarcastic. This was a habit she'd picked up from him, he'd noticed. Every time she was a little sour, he couldn't help but feel simultaneously two feelings at once: awful for making her so twisted, and also afire with the sense of being happy that she saw something in his character worth adding to her own. 

Either way, she accepted his hand and allowed him to drag her into the downstairs guest room, where many of their daytime sojurns took place.

The only interruption they faced was pounding on their door, yelling: "Mom, dad, knock it off! I’m trying to study! Use a fucking muffilato or something!"

To which the adults simply laughed, and obliged, casting the domestically very useful spell on the door to preserve the purity of their son's ears.


End file.
